


Tumblr dump for Starker and other Peter ships

by Lurafita



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Dark!Tony, I wanted a backup in case tumblr deletes my blog, I'm misusing the tag system again, Kidnapping, M/M, Manipulation, May contain smut, Mute!Peter, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Some dark themes, Soulmarks, Soulmates, This is not a story, about romantic/sexual relationships with Peter, apparently that has been happening a lot lately, feel free to browse through it if you want, may contain dubious consent themes, may contain non consent themes, mostly Starker, or have been abandoned, seriously, short posts/chapters, this is where I'm gonna dump all my tumblr posts, though there are some that might become a story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2020-10-21 17:07:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 39,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20697041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lurafita/pseuds/Lurafita
Summary: Because I have been hearing from many users that tumblr has been deleting blogs, I want to save my posts away here. This is where I will be updating any tumblr posts that have Starker content or other romantic ships with Peter. They are mostly short little snippets, but also some things like prompts that may evolve into full stories. I don't expect comments, to be honest, but I am also not at all opposed to them. :-)





	1. Chapter 1

## Shipping Hate

It has always been a bit of a paradox to me, that things like Fandom - and I mean all and any fandom - are inherently toxic places.

It makes no sense at all. If you like a character or ship, great. Write about them, draw them, make videos about them, share your works with others who like them as well, view the works of others who share your love for this character or ship.

If you don’t like a character or ship, that’s completely okay, too. Don’t write about them, don’t draw them, don’t make videos about them, don’t search for things you don’t enjoy and don’t comment on things just to be a douchbag.

It’s actually not that hard to be a decent person, even in a place as wide and varied as the internet.

Take me for example. I don’t like the Marvel character of Mary-Jane Watson. Yet you will never see me purposely look for fanart of her and comment something like: “I hate this bitch I hope she dies and you are stupid for liking her.”

I also don’t like the DC character of Batman, and I will certainly not waste my free time browsing the web for stories with him as the main character, just to say things like: “Oh god, Bruce is so stupid, the Joker should have definitely killed him like eons ago. I hope you choke on a dick for writing him like he is worh something.”

That is not to say that you can never comment on a work of literature or art in a negative way. There is something called ‘constructive criticism’, after all. Nobody is perfect, authors and artists can make mistakes, or maybe not realize that something they wrote might be misunderstood by their readers.  
But this also requires you to put your own bias aside, and give the creator of whatever work you are commenting on, the respect they deserve by being honest, but POLITE.   
For example like this: “I have enjoyed your story so far, but I gotta be honest, I don’t understand why Person A didn’t just come clean about what is going on. It doesn’t seem to align with the way they have acted up to this point.”

What people need to understand is that they don’t have a monopol on their favourite character.

Let’s talk about Starker and Irondad/Spiderson for example.

Starker shippers get a lot of hate here. And I mean a lot.

Now, I personally don’t ship Starker **exclusively**, but I have also not made a secret out of the fact that I can enjoy any shipping story as long as it has Peter Parker as a main character in it. I have read and enjoyed many Starker fanfics. (Just as I have enjoyed Winterspider, Spidershield, Spideypool and the list goes on. Give me Peter and I am happy.)

That doesn’t keep me from equally reading and enjoying the many Irondad/Spiderson fanfics I have come across.

To me, it is a matter of character representation. If Peter is under 18 years old and there is a significant age difference between him and Tony, I like to imagine their relationship as a more familial one.

If Peter is over the age of 18 and the number of years seperating him and Tony in age isn’t that high, (and if they don’t have a backstory that hints at a familial relationship), I have absolutely no problem seeing them together in a romantic and sexual partnership.

HOWEVER, if someone wants to view and write about Peter as underaged, with a big age gap between him and Tony, that is completely okay, too. There is such a thing as freedom of expression. Someone who writes Peter as a teenager, might be a teenager themselves. I have been a teenager once, I have had my share of crushes on older men, I have dreamed fangirl dreams of being in a relationship with those people. If someone isn't a teenager but still writes about teen Peter and much older Tony, that's okay as well.  
Actually, many ships are born out of the character that feels the most comfortable for you to project onto, and a character you feel attracted to.  
It's a fantasy. They are fictional characters. A writer or artist who takes care to set the appropriate tags and warning for their works, is allowed to indulge in them as much as they want. If someone doesn't like the content, they do have the tools to avoid them at their disposal. If an artist or writer didn't tag their work appropriately, that might have been an oversight on their part. Contact them and make them aware of the mistake.

The most cited reasons for hating the Starker ship is the claim that it is paedophila.

It’s not. Pedophilia (alternatively spelt **paedophilia**) is a psychiatric disorder in which an adult or older adolescent experiences a primary or exclusive sexual attraction to prepubescent children.

Now what is considered a prepubescent child, you ask? Although girls typically begin the process of [puberty](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FPuberty&t=Yzg5OWIwMjE4YzZkMjYwM2JiZTM1MDNjOGUyMDUzZGFmZWYyNDQ1NCw3OWMzNGEwOGRjZDViZWU4ZDFhYjgwOTBiYjNhMGU0NjZmZTMyYTA2) at age 10 or 11, and boys at age 11 or 12, criteria for pedophilia extend the cut-off point for prepubescence to age 13.  
More importantly, comparing the experiences of a 15 - 17 year old teenager, with those of an actual child under the age of 12, and calling them the same, is very, very disrespectful and can be damaging for actual, real victims of this crime. 

This means that if you are hellbent on basing the characters only in the Marvel cinematic universe and therefore only this one interpretations of the characters as they are, Peter Parker was not, in fact, a prepubescent child when he met Tony Stark.

If you are iffy about the age difference between them, that’s okay. But do keep in mind, that many of the Starker fics here and on other writing forums, do change up circumstances and ages of the characters.

And again, I would like to repeat, people (yes, even hardcore fans) don’t have a monopol on the characters.

The Marvel Cinematic Universe is big, but it is only the latest interpretation and take on the Mavel universe and its characters. You don’t have the right to say: “Peter Parker is forever underage and cannot be aged up, just as Tony Stark cannot be aged down, and their circumstances and back stories cannot be changed for them to have gross sex.”

You like them in a father-son relationship. That’s fine. That’s completely alright. But be mature and respectful enough to acknowledge that your opinion isn’t the only one that counts. If you don’t want to read a Starker fanfic, or Starker fanart, block the tag. It’s so incredibly easy. I myself don’t like any form of ageplay, so I went into my tumblr settings and blocked that tag, along with a few more that I don’t personally enjoy. But I don’t attack the person who worte it. Because that’s just a douchy thing to do. This person simply likes other stuff than me, doesn’t mean that they are a bad person, and it doesn’t mean that they may not post other stuff I like. 

By the by, it is just as easy to avoid content you don't like here on Ao3. You just click on the search bar options, and type in any relationship or circumstances you don't like into the 'Exclude' tag. Other people are responsible for tagging their stories with the right tags, but you are responsible to take care of your own safety and wellfare, by blocking tags that you know exist and might be triggering for you (or those you just don't like).

In the end, a character isn’t, and shouldn’t be, defined by their age _alone_. Yes, it can certainly play a part in who they are and how they would react to and handle situations, but they are so much more than the number of years they have lived.

I will again use myself as an example here.  
If I think of Peter Parker as a character, what I think is:  
brave,  
kindhearted,  
smart,  
funny,  
indomitable will,  
doesn’t always make the best decisions but always has the best intentions,  
can be annoying but always tries his hardest to help,  
has a guilt complex the size of russia,  
with great power comes great responsiblity.

That is who Peter is to me. Now he can be all that as a teenager, and he can be all that as an adult.

When I look at Starker as a relationship, I don’t see an underaged Peter and an almost 50 year old Tony. I see two people that are similar and different enough to balance each other out and compliment each other at the same time.

Last but not least, let me mention that if Marvel had cast an **actual** 14 year old kid to play Peter Parker, we probably wouldn’t be having this discussion right now. People didn’t see the movie and start shipping Starker because the appeal of an underaged small kid with a man more than twice his age was so very compelling. (At least most of them) They started shipping because an ADULT, 20 year old Tom Holland was cast to portray a teenaged Spiderman and there was a certain aesthetic between him and co-star RDJ.

Actually, people have shipped Starker long before the MCU. Nobody had a problem with that then. Because, and I feel like I’m just endlessly repeating myself, the MCU version is not the only version of these characters. It’s not even the most faithful to the source material.  
And fans have a right to ask things like: What if Peter and Tony fell in love with each other? What if their roles were reversed? What if Peter was a woman or Tony was a woman, or what if they were both cats? What if circumstances were different? What if I just want a smutty little oneshot that’s pretty much only sex? What if I want a slow burn with real character development?

This got a lot longer than I planned. Anyway, all I really wanted to say is: Ship and love whoever you like, but stop spreading your hatred. Don’t attack real people (even if only through text messages) for liking something you don’t like.

Don’t be the villain.


	2. Chapter 2

##  [Spidershield prompt](https://lurafita.tumblr.com/post/183521744464/spidershield-prompt)

Imagine artistic Steve (alternative universe or not) discovering henna tattoos. And Peter has such nice skin. 

Could be alternative universe or not. Could be established relationship or not, maybe they are friends or barely acquaintances or complete strangers and Steve just gets a glimpse of that white skin and his fingers itch. 

Want more kink in it? Maybe Peter doesn’t hold still enough for Steve to draw the fine lines (reasons for those can vary from Peter simply being restless or ticklish, to more nefarious things like Steve having kinda kidnapped him in order to draw on him, etc), so Steve ties him down securely.

Could be done with Starker or Winterspider as well, with either Tony or Bucky as the inspired artists and Peter as the beloved canvas.


	3. Chapter 3

##  [Obsession - Prologe](https://lurafita.tumblr.com/post/184483191964/obsession-prologe)

_This is Starker. And just so there is no possible confusion, this means that Tony and Peter will be in a romantic and sexual relationship. As in they will be fucking at some point. If you are still reading, even though you don’t like that pairing, you are an idiot. Block the Starker-tag if you don’t want to see Starker content.   
Non-powered AU, with a ten year age gap between Tony and Peter. The very first time the two meet, Peter is 24 and an undergrad student at Berkeley College in New York, going for his bachelor. Tony is 34 and the impossibly rich owner of Stark Industries._

_I know I’m gonna get at least one Anti calling me a pedophile, because apparently things like common sense and human decency don’t matter to Anti’s. But honestly, if you have nothing better to do than spread your hatred and ignorance around, be my guest. Better you do it to me than someone you would actually hurt with your vile accusations._

_To all Starker fans here, this is my first fic featuring Tony and Peter in a romantic (but also dark, possessive, slightly manipulative) relationship, and I do hope you can find some enjoyment in it.   
_

_This was born out of a prompt posted here, and I will try to link it together, but I’m not sure how that works, so please forgive me if I botch it.  
_

##  **Obsession**

Prologe

Most people would probably scoff derisively, or laugh outright, if somebody told them that billionaire, tech-mogul, playboy Tony Stark, was a romantic at heart. And honestly, Tony could understand the disbelief. There was a reason for that ‘playboy’ title that usually accompanied his name.

After all, he was **Tony Stark**, most sought after bachelor of the year, for now almost ten years in a row, and possibly the richest man in the world. Combine that with the fact that he was a very attractive 34 year old, and there was no shortage of people, both male and female, who threw themselves at him. And Tony wasn’t one to deprive himself of a good romp between the sheets. So yeah, the playboy tag to his name was well earned. One magazine, the name of which he had long forgotten, even crowned him the _king of one-night-stands_ once.

But despite all of this, Tony _did _believe in true love and, though he knew that his fame made this harder for him, he did hope to find it one day.

He did not, however, believe in love at first sight. All a 'first sight’ could ever tell you about a person, was their appearance. What they looked like. The shape of their body, the color of their hair, the shade of their eyes, and so on. And if those things appealed to you, then you could certainly make a plea for 'attraction’ at first sight, or 'lust’ at first sight.

But love?

No.

Love couldn’t sprout from only one meeting. Couldn’t be born out of just a glimpse. And certainly could never be sustained by attraction alone.

Not in Tony’s opinion, anyway.

Love should be **more**.   
_Deeper_.   
Magical, but real. It should burn you alive, without ever harming a single hair on your head. Feral and animalistic, but protective and safe.

And Tony, underneath all his sarcasm and riches and general distrust of people’s intentions, wanted it.   
Yearned for it.

And if; between all the vultures who wanted him for his money, or his fame, or his body; all the false promises and facades and masks that people tended to wear to disguise their true intentions; if he could ever sort through all those undeserving masses and find that one person, that one _magnificent _being who would inspire all those wonderful, fantastic feelings of love in him, **he would never, ever let them go.**


	4. Chapter 4

## Obsession

Chapter 1

_//Tony, this isn’t a joke! You can’t just slip away from the tower without any security! If you don’t call me or Happy in the next ten minutes, I’m sending Natasha after you!//_

Tony smirked as he read the text message Pepper, his personal assistant, had sent him. It wasn’t so much that he enjoyed being hunted down by his head bodyguard and former Russian spy, Natasha Romanoff, but he simply wasn’t the kind of person to organize a team of stiff security goons around him, just to get out of his tower for a bit.

Which was not to say that he didn’t understand Pepper’s worry. He was an important, powerful and influential man, who had rivals and enemies practically around every corner. While he certainly wasn’t helpless, it wouldn’t be the first time he had been kidnapped. And ever since Obadiah’s betrayal… well, as stated before, Tony did understand Pepper’s worry. Didn’t change the fact that he didn’t like having a fucking battalion of suits following his every movement, or telling him where he could or couldn’t go. He had already fired a bunch of those who had tried. _No one_ told Tony Stark what he could or couldn’t do. It was possibly one of the reasons why he had promoted Natasha to the head position. The woman was terrifying in every way, but she never tried to limit Tony. She simply adapted to his whims.   
And today one of those whims had prompted him to put on a rather atrocious outfit, a wig that made it look like he was some kind of hippie, a cap and sunglasses, all of which combined made up the perfect disguise for him to roam the streets of New York undetected.

He hadn’t actually planned to stay out too long, just find some hole in the wall, unobtrusive little diner and drink a cup of coffee (which in hindsight was a really bad idea, because clearly whatever this brown sludge was couldn’t hold a candle to the high quality beans used in the coffee makers in his tower), when the conversation between the three people sat at the table on his right had drifted over to him.

At first he had felt annoyed; after all, he had chosen this pitiful little diner because it’s unappealing location in a narrow alley way and over all unimpressive decor, was supposed to guarantee very few patrons. And therefore, a quiet little space for Tony to relax for a few minutes, before he had to go back to people shoving papers and contracts under his nose for him to read and sign and his phone ringing every damn five minutes. He had been about to leave, when he decided to at least take a quick glance at the people daring to disturb his little break.

They seemed to be around the same age, which Tony guessed to be early twenties. One rather heavyset young man, black hair, slightly darker skin tone, if pressed, the billionaire would put him down as part Filipino. A young black woman, curly hair, a serious expression on her face that kind of reminded Tony of Pepper. And then his eyes drifted to the third person at that table and he felt… _something_… shoot through him.

Pale skin peeked out from under a too big sweater, allowing just a glimpse at the collarbones leading up to the slender neck. Light pink lips that, while not overly plumb, looked invitingly lush. Short brown hair that was clearly unstyled, but just seemed to _beg_ you to run your fingers through it’s curls.

Soft brown eyes. Deep and bright. And so expressive, as the young man recounted what must have been a fascinating lecture by one of his professors to his two friends.

“Professor Conners studies of cross species genetics and their possible applications in modern medicine are _mind blowing_, guys. I’m so deliriously happy that I got into his class! He even said that there …”  
  
And Tony couldn’t look away. At only a first glance, the brunette looked plain. Unassuming. To someone like Tony Stark, who had bedded more super models than most people even allowed themselves to fantasize about, there should be nothing particularly outstanding about the younger man. And _**yet**_…

He was _cute_. Slightly boyish features, a bit of a baby face. But clearly an adult. Must be. _Had to be. _

He spoke with such enthusiasm, such passion. His voice just that side of a little higher pitched, but smooth, pleasant.

“…which is why we could possibly be lucky enough to get Doctor Octavious as a guest lecturer sometime this semester and…”

Intelligence and eagerness was pouring off the brunette. So excited by the prospect of learning more, widening his horizons, that his cheeks had taken on a light rosy hue. It was _adorable_.

“…and just think about what this could mean for trauma patients, or people waiting for a transplant…”

And so Tony ordered another cup of watered down mud, kept on ignoring the messages blowing up his phone, angled his body in a way that kept the younger man in his sight, without outright staring at him, and continued to listen.

The three covered a wide variety of topics, and Tony learned not only the brunettes name (Peter, the other man had called him at one point, and what a delightfully fitting name for the cute creature), but also that beside the sharp intellect, Peter possessed a snarky kind of humor, that had almost caused Tony to snort loudly a few times.

The disguised celebrity was on his third cup of what passed for coffee in the world of the pitiful, when the three were discussing a book that the woman – he hadn’t bothered to memorize her name – was reading for her literature course.

“I’m not saying that I like Richard. I just don’t think that he is the personification of evil that the book is painting him as.”

And even though Tony had no idea what the books plot even was about, he felt inclined to agree with Peter. Just on principle. The woman shook her head.

“Every oracle they have come across has pointed out the darkness residing in him. He clearly can’t be trusted.”

Ah, so it was some kind of fantasy book? He hadn’t known that colleges even used those. Then again, his education at MIT had mostly circled around all kinds of mechanical engineering and business, with a side of physics and a bit of chemistry. He had never really been into the liberal arts and the like, so what did he know?

“But that’s just it! All they ever say about him is that he carries darkness in his soul. But does this automatically make him a bad man? I mean, if the darkness can be used and manipulated, then isn’t it simply a matter of the person who wields it? Like, think of the darkness like a weapon. A gun in the hands of… a robber or something, could kill you. But a gun in the hands of a good guy, like a police officer or someone, could save your life.”

What a profound thing to say. Cute, smart, funny and _thoughtful_.

“And, is darkness even all that bad? I know it gets linked to evil a lot in stories, but really, I mean, how do I put this? Sometimes darkness can be.. comforting? Like, have you ever tried to sleep in a fully lit room? And sure, you are more likely to get robbed when it’s dark out, but it’s also a lot easier to hide or escape from someone if they can’t see you. Know what I mean?”

It was like Peter was speaking directly to him. Because there had been a time, almost five years ago now, when Tony had thought that _maybe_, he could find love with Pepper. She had been with him for years. She was loyal, she was beautiful, she was his friend, and he trusted her.   
The attraction was reciprocated, and they had tried. Tony Stark’s first real relationship. The media had been in a frenzy over them, had hounded him more than usual, hoping that they would catch him straying. Wetting themselves over the chance that they might be the one to get the scoop of the playboy who couldn’t stay faithful. Nothing sold better than a scandal.

But Tony hadn’t cheated on Pepper, and it wasn’t an act of betrayal that ended their relationship.  
_“I’m sorry, Tony. But I can’t do this anymore. It’s not something you did, it’s just… Remember that article a few months ago, - after we brought out the new military weapon series, - that questioned whether or not you had a heart? That article was bullshit and the person who wrote it is an ignorant fool. I believe you have a great capacity for love. But I don’t think that I’m the one that… Sometimes, it feels like there is this darkness inside of you. And that scares me. I’m so sorry.”_

They had stayed friends, and Tony knew, even if Pepper hadn’t ended it that day, it wouldn’t have worked out between them. But her words had stuck with him. _‘There is this darkness inside you. And it scares me.’_

He hadn’t denied it. How could he, when it was nothing but the truth?

How many people had called him a warlord, because of Stark Industries weapons manufacturing?   
How often had he been accused of profiting off people dying?  
How often had he had to defend himself from his would be assailants, or his would be kidnappers, and not felt an ounce of mercy or regret, when he broke their bones or put bullets into their limbs?   
He knew well of the darkness he carried, and he had accepted <strike>(resigned himself)</strike> that this made him a bad man. 

But now Peter, _bright, enthusiastic, adorable Peter,_ was offering him an alternative. A second chance.

**Darkness didn’t have to be evil.**

Yes, Stark Industries had made millions by designing and building weapons to use in wars. **But** it was those weapons that enabled their soldiers to protect and fight for the ideals of their country and the freedom of all.

**It might be scary, but it could be comforting. **

He had felt like a demon, avenging and ruthless, when he had finally hunted down Obadiah and ended him; **but after that**, he had held Pepper and been held by her, knowing that he had done what needed to be done, and that because of that, they were now safe.

**It might harbor monsters inside itself, but it could also hide you from them. **

He could remember running through the endless halls in his childhood home, his angry and drunk father screaming somewhere behind him, and slipping into a room, any room. Killing all the lights and crawling into a niche, or under a bed, or a couch, or a table. And his father, too drunk to find the light switch with his fumbling,** unable to see him in the dark**.

“I doubt Professor Wilson expects us to be this philosophical about it, Parker.”

The woman’s voice so rudely interrupted Tony’s introspection, and he wanted to yell at her to shut up. But he didn’t. He _wouldn’t_. She was Peter’s friend. And while Tony carried darkness inside him, he was **_not_** a bad man.

He watched as Peter shrugged.

“You never know, MJ. Can’t hurt to be-” That’s when the young man caught a glance at the clock that hung on the opposite wall and his eyes widened in panic. “Shoot! It’s almost six already?! I’m gonna be late!” He frantically grabbed his jacked and backpack and stood from the table. His Filipino friend shot him a concerned look.

“Think you gonna make it? Wasn’t your boss really angry that last time you were late?”

Peter was rummaging in his jacket pocket and having found the few dollars in it, quickly laid them on the table to cover his tap. He nodded.

“Yeah, I will have to run, but it’s not far. I should just make it. Skype later?”

His two friends nodded, and then Peter was off like a shot.

_No_. No no no no no. This was too fast. Peter couldn’t just _leave_ like this. He couldn’t- his phone vibrated with what was undoubtedly another angry text from Pepper about bringing in Natasha. It helped clear Tony’s head, though.

This wasn’t a problem.   
Nothing was lost.   
Tony had listened to the three undergrad students long enough to deduce that they attended Berkeley College.   
He knew that Peter had signed up for all of Doctor Conners lectures. 

And he now knew that Peter’s last name was Parker.

He could find him now. It would be easy, with all the resources available to him. **Child’s-play. **

So he breathed in deeply, and finished the last of his sludge. He laid some money on the table and stood. He had left a generous tip, because even though the coffee had been miserable, the company had been exquisite.

He took his phone out and finally answered Pepper’s numerous messages, as he left the diner.

_Tony Stark didn’t believe in love at first sight. _

He thought back to his escape from the tower, now almost 2 hours ago, and the time spent in the diner. He felt lighter than he had in a long time.

_But he did believe in true love._

He remembered every detail of Peter that he had been able to gather. And he remembered that **_something_** that he had felt, when he first looked into his eyes.

_And he did believe that sometimes, true love started with a **something**._


	5. Chapter 5

Tony is in a bit of denial in this chapter, which I have tried to indicate with <strike>this</strike>. If this striking through words makes it too hard to read for you, plese let me know, and I will try to think of something different. Though there aren’t too many sentences like it.

## Obsession – Chapter 2

  
33 year old Pepper Potts was positively surprised, when her former boyfriend and current boss, dutifully read and then signed every paper she put in front of him.

After his little disappearing act the day before (something that happened quite frequently, if she were honest), she had expected him to be just as difficult as he normally was.   
Which wasn’t to say that Tony didn’t take his responsibilities seriously; but the genius had a rather extensive history of locking himself away in his personal lab, whenever company matters started to bore him. And since everything that didn’t directly involve his tech or other fields of his expertise usually bored him, Pepper really had her work cut out for her.

But today, Tony seemed to be in an exceptionally good mood, almost eager to get all the dreaded work done.

“Did something happen yesterday?” She asked, as he signed the contract before him with a flourish.

“Why do you ask, Pep?”

There was a chipper tone to his voice, that seemed fairly out of place considering he was doing paperwork.

“You just seem to be in a very good mood.”

Tony nodded, while reading through a proposal for a joined project with Hammer Industries. He was going to decline, of course, but it was always funny to see what Justin offered this time in hopes of enticing him into working together. Tony mentally scoffed. As if he would ever put his name on anything that amateur had had his hands on.

“I met someone.” Did it count as a meeting when Peter hadn’t even been aware of his presence? No matter, he still couldn’t contain the little smile at the thought of the brunette.

Pepper sighed. “Do I need to prepare the PR-Department for an upcoming sex video?”

Tony cringed. “Ouch. … Though, fair, I guess. But no. Don’t worry. We were fully clothed the whole time and all that happened was talking.”   
Peter had done all the talking, and if one wanted to get technical about it, it hadn’t been directed at Tony, but, whatever. Details.

He turned just in time to catch the surprised look on Pepper’s face, and grinned.

“Starting to believe my bad press, Miss Potts? Contrary to popular believe, I don’t sleep with everyone I meet.”

The strawberry blonde woman shook her head.

“I know that, Tony. It’s just… no, you are right. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, though I’m still angry at you for just running off like you did. There is a reason we employ personal security guards.” She finished and pinned him with a penetrating expression. He just grinned wider at her.

“I know. This new batch is actually pretty good. What was the team leaders name again? Bates? Balm? Anyway, it took me a whole hour to distract him long enough for me to put on my _Non-Important-Person_ disguise, for short: NIP-d, if you will, and get out of the tower. He even found me when I was halfway on my way back. Pretty impressive. Maybe we should give him a raise.”

Pepper just sighed in defeat. “**Barnes**, Tony. His name is James Barnes. Natasha personally recommended him for the job. And he was not impressed with that stunt you pulled to ‘distract’ him, by the way.”

Since Natasha’s job as head of security contained some _‘extracurricular activities’_, which often times took her to various locations, someone else needed to be in charge of the security in place not only at Stark Industries, but also to all of the people in higher positions and of course, Tony Stark himself. James Barnes had come highly recommended by Natasha, and if a woman who could kill you 27 different ways with a toothpick recommended someone to you, you didn’t ask questions and just fucking hired them.

Tony hummed in acknowledgment as he started on the last paragraph of the proposition. A few seconds went by in silence.

“It suits you, you know? Being happy. Are you planning on seeing them again?”

Hopeful anticipation filled him at the thought.

“I am.”

Then he grabbed Hammer’s proposal and handed it back to Pepper.

“Shredder this and send Justin a 'Better luck next time’ E-mail, would you? Anything else on the agenda for today?”

She accepted the papers and after a quick glance at her phone, shook her head.

“No, you are done for now. Wow, that was quick. Do I get to meet this person who apparently inspires you to actually do your work?”

She asked with a playful grin. Tony couldn’t help the smile that stole over his lips as he imagined introducing Peter to her. The younger man would be pressed into his side, with Tony’s arm around that narrow waist, and probably blushing.

“Sure. One day. If things go well and all.”  
He did need to introduce himself to Peter first, after all.

“I’m looking forward to it. Enjoy the rest of your day, Tony.”

And with those parting words, she left his office. He waited until he couldn’t hear the sounds of her heels clicking against the tiled floors anymore, before he addressed the room.

“Jarvis, commence project 'Baby Boy’. Let’s continue where we left off this morning.”

“Certainly, Sir.” Came the voice of the artificial intelligence Tony had created and installed not only in Stark Tower, but all of his other properties as well. “Also, I would like to inform you, that I have decided against reminding you that you haven’t slept ever since you started with your research, 22 hours and 18 minuets ago. Which makes it a total of 33 hours and 37 minutes that you have been awake. As previous instances have shown that trying to encourage you to keep a healthy sleeping schedule, have been ultimately futile efforts on my part, I will decline from further fruitless endeavors.”

Tony blinked in slight surprise. “Since when were you so passive-aggressive? You have been listening to Pepper too much. How about this then? We will give it another hour and 23 minutes, make it an even 35 hours without sleep, before I go and lie down like a good boy.”

The A.I. seemed to agree with his terms, as all around him, different holo screens popped up, all displaying various information about one Peter Benjamin Parker.

It had started smaller.

_Innocent._

Only one screen, displaying Peter’s student credentials on Berkeley’s web page.

When Tony had made it back to his penthouse in the tower, after numerous promises and assurances that he would inform someone if he wanted to go for a stroll again, (all of which were lies, naturally) he had started with his research right away.

He had just wanted some facts, a point to start at.   
Full name, age, address, _marital status_.   
(It wouldn’t be completely unheard of for a college student to be married already, after all.) **Peter wasn’t!**

However, after he had gotten the answers to these most prominent questions, he had still felt… _unsatisfied_.

Just because Peter wasn’t married, didn’t mean that he wasn’t currently in a relationship.   
<strike>Though would it really matter if he was?</strike>

He had shaken his head then, thinking that he was getting way ahead of himself. He had only spent a little more than an hour in Peter’s presence, of which the other hadn’t even been aware of, and he was already contemplating how to deal with possible rivals? It was ludicrous!

Yes, the younger man was attractive _(and smart, and empathetic, and insightful, and charming, and witty)_, but that didn’t mean that Tony wanted to start a relationship with him. _(Oh, who was he kidding?)_

Didn’t even mean he wanted to sleep with him._ (No, really, who was he **fucking** **kidding**?)_

So after this blessedly short mini meltdown, Tony decided that he needed to acquire more information to properly deal with his <strike>infatuation </strike>situation. And thus, _**Project Baby Boy**_ was born.

After all the official records, it took no time at all for him to find Peter’s Facebook, Instagram and Tumblr accounts.  
Social media was a glorious thing. It made you bare some of your innermost, private thoughts and feelings to a world of strangers, without you ever realizing that you were doing it.   
Every post, every like, every picture and every comment the brunette made, slowly unveiled who Peter really was to Tony’s hungry eyes. As the hours had gone by, the genius billionaire found himself more and more enamored with the (single!) 24 year old.   
  
Between dorky science jokes, geeky Star Wars and other sci-fi posts, and a truly astounding amount of dog and cat pictures, Peter was revealing himself to be quite an intriguing individual. 

He studied bio-chemistry as a main field, with a bit of bio-engineering and health and medical sciences on the side. There was a clear indication of the type of profession sweet Peter wanted to get into. Thinking back on the conversation in the diner, Tony wasn’t surprised. The younger man had been incredibly enthusiastic about the future of medicine and how he would one day be able to help people. It definitely explained why Tony Stark was only number 6 on Peter’s tumblr list of ‘The 10 greatest scientists alive today’.   
Since Peter was more into the squishy sciences (Tony wasn’t squeamish - he had had someone else’s blood on his person far too often for such sensitivities - but he preferred a circuit board and wires over organs and skin tissue any day), it made sense that the billionaire, genius **mechanic **Tony Stark, wasn’t on the top his list. (Still a bit of a blow to the ego, though) At least Peter had placed him before that insufferable ass, Reed Richards! 

(And hey, it was a ranking based on corresponding interest in scientific avenues. <strike>Tony would soon be in the first _**and only**_ place of ‘Scientist who regularly rocks my world’)</strike>

He was also a bit of a hobby photographer, it seemed, as Peter had uploaded many photos taken of friends, animals, sunsets, buildings and plants. Sometimes a photo would showcase a particular play with lighting and shadows, other times special camera filters would highlight different focus points in a picture. Tony may not be a great artisan, but he could appreciate talent.

He also found a short video clip in which one of Peter’s friends (the internet handle was ‘guy-in-the-chair’) had filmed Peter’s, _frankly adorable_, reaction to being served some monstrously sugary kind of dessert. The video’s caption had read 'Orgasm by Marshmallow stuffed chocolate Cupcake’, and to the inventors utter delight, it included 11 seconds of Peter taking his first bite and actually looking like he was having a tiny orgasm right then and there. Complete with eyes widening before rolling back into his head, and a moan that couldn’t be described as anything else but sinful. _(Tony might have re-watched those 11 seconds more times than he cared to admit, while imagining the younger man lying naked and stretched out underneath him, on the silken sheets of Tony’s bed, moaning for a **very **different reason.)_

He found only a few other video’s similar to this. Apparently Peter had a major sweet tooth – _which Tony could think of various ways to exploit_ – and his friend had obviously thought it great fun to film him eating things that would send any diabetic into an early grave.

He had Jarvis save every one of those videos into a private folder, for his personal viewing pleasure. _(Oh, and what a pleasure it was. _Though the cupcake video was definitely his favorite, the one in which <strike>his darling</strike> Peter all but went down on a deep fried Mars bar, was a very close second_.) _

While Tony certainly would have liked to add even more to his collection, he was grateful that only a handful of such videos existed. 

_He didn’t like the thought of others seeing <strike>his</strike> Peter like this. _

While most of the comments beneath the videos were obviously from friends and acquaintances, who either teased the brunette about his sweet tooth, or commented on the foods themselves, others had been… less PG.

_Other people shouldn’t get to think about him like that._

Thinking back on it now, Tony contemplated if maybe he should take the videos down himself. He had already saved away his own copies of them.

_Keep <strike>him </strike>them to myself._

Maybe later.

Right now he wanted to keep going, there was still so much to learn about the cute college student.

Tony knew that life hadn’t been very kind to Peter. He had been orphaned at six, mother and father dying in a plane crash. Taken in by his aunt and uncle, May and Ben Parker. Seven years later, Ben Parker had been shot in a robbery gone wrong, and if the police report that Tony had hacked was to be believed, Peter had been an eyewitness to the murder.

It was humbling in a way, to think that someone who had been forced to endure so much trauma at a young age already, could grow into the bright 24 year old man that the genius had met just yesterday.

Jarvis had also pulled some older records, that showed that the two remaining Parkers had been left in quite a lot of debt after Ben’s passing. (Well, Tony assumed the amount of debt was a lot for regular people. His bed had actually cost more than the number presented to him.)

May Parker, Peter’s aunt, was a nurse in Queens General Hospital. (Which could have possibly inspired the boy’s chosen field of study) Peter had taken on two part time jobs as soon as he was out of highschool – which Tony concluded were used to help pay the bills, since he was a scholarship student at Berkeley and still lived with his aunt.

“Jarvis, run a calculation. Considering the regular costs of rent and other living expenses, how long will it take the Parkers to pay back what they owe?”

“Keeping in mind the expected rise in interest rates, taxes and insurance, it will approximately take May and Peter Parker 31 years to eradicate their debt. This number is likely to change if Mr. Parker pursues a higher paying profession after finishing his education.”

Tony nodded thoughtfully.

“Still, that’s not for a few more years yet, especially if Peter wants to go for a Master and Doctor degree after he has finished with his Bachelor.”

This could work in his favor.

While Tony loathed people who wanted to use him only for his money, he liked to spend it on the ones he cared about._   
_

_Liked taking care of those who deserved it. _

He let his gaze be caught by one particular screen, that displayed a photo of Peter Jarvis had pulled from the younger’s Instagram. In it Peter was outside, the sun shining brightly above him, in only a loose t-shirt and cut off jeans. A black cat was cradled in his arms, and he was smiling brightly at the camera. Tony re-read the text underneath the picture. 'This gorgeous lady decided to join Ned and I on our walk to **A heart has four paws **shelter today.’ (Because despite his two jobs and being a scholarship student at one of the tier universities in this country, Peter still made the time to volunteer at an animal shelter. Tony was starting to worry if the precious boy even slept anymore)

_Peter most certainly deserved to have someone take care of him. _

“You have received a text message from Miss Romanoff, Sir.” Jarvis voice interrupted his thoughts jarringly. 

“What’s it say, J?” He didn’t think she had encountered any problems with her mission. 

“It states ‘Mission accomplished. On my way back.’, Sir. Do you wish to give her any further instructions`?”

“No. Tell her good job and to treat herself to some sight seeing if she likes. Not every day one get’s to visit Rome. Well, unless you are me, of course.”

“Of course, Sir.”

Would Peter like to go to Rome? It was said to be one of the most romantic cities in the world, wasn’t it?   
Maybe keep that in mind for a second date.

“It has now been 35 hours since you last slept. As per your own-”

“Yes, yes, I know. Stop yapping at me, J.” He threw his hands up in surrender. “Save everything we have so far into my private folder. Separate the videos and photos of Peter into their own. Also, make sure I have some free time tomorrow when Peter is on his way back home from that restaurant he works at. I plan on running into him, completely coincidentally, of course.”

“Of course, Sir.”

For the first time in a long time, the idea of sleeping didn’t seem like a necessary inconvenience. He was looking forward to what his imagination could come up with, after those videos. 

What sweet dreams he was about to have.

* * *

* * *

The next morning, the news were overflowing with reports of Norman Osborns demise. The business man had been on vacation in Rome, and suffered a fatal heart attack. He had apparently mixed up his medication. It was a tragic accident.

* * *

* * *

tbc..


	6. Chapter 6

##  [Plot bunny free to a good home](https://lurafita.tumblr.com/post/184641379194/plot-bunny-free-to-a-good-home)

A/B/O verse (but maybe don’t make Omegas into controlled by their biology, looked down upon by society, slaves to their Alphas, pretty please?)

With supernatural elements! Meaning Alphas and Omegas have supernatural abilities, and Betas are normal humans.

Alphas are usually animal shifters. Mostly more predatory and bigger animals, like wolves, tigers/lions/panthers…, bears, etc.   
Though sometimes Alphas can also present as birds of prey (hawks, eagles, vultures,..), bigger reptiles (crocodiles, big snakes,..), or water based shifters like sharks or killer whales.   
All Alphas can shift into their animal form, while retaining some of their human thoughts/feelings.  
In their human form, they are typically stronger and faster than the average betas (normal humans), and have enhanced senses -> according to their animal sides (for example: wolves have better sense of smell and hearing than the big cat shifters, but cat like shifters are more agile and can see better in the dark. Bears are the strongest in a physical sense, birds of prey have the best eyesight, and so on…)

Omegas as well possess animal traits, but can’t shift into one. That is partly due to Omegas usually taking after smaller animal breeds, like bunnies, domesticated house cats, smaller bird breeds (like sparrows and humming birds), but also sea otters, seals, or dolphins. Some go even smaller like butterflies or spiders (hint, hint, nudge, nudge), though those are exceedingly rare.  
While Omegas can’t shift into their animal counterparts like Alphas can, they can embody/assume/retain certain aspects of their animalistic sides. A bird Omega for example can (temporarily) sprout wings, while a dolphin Omega may be able to swim really fast and hold their breath for much longer than anyone else. (for another example, a spider Omega might be able to stick to things, or have a kind of precognitiv sense that warns them of danger… :-) )  
And of course the same is true for other animals and their various specialties, like maybe a bunny omega can jump very high, or something…

While Alphas are stronger/faster/tougher, in essence have more physical enhancements, Omegas are usually more intuitive/sensitive/in touch with their own and others emotions. They have a generally more comforting presence to them and are known to sometimes have telepathic or empathic abilities. 

Just a run of the mill idea that can be explored in any way you would like, have things added to or changed, maybe with pack dynamics (mixed packs or pure packs), and so on. Can play in modern times in which society as a whole is aware of alphas and omegas and their special traits, or can be more of a fantasy thing, with kingdoms and the like. Just whatever floats your boat. Any pairing you like. (though I would love anything with Omega Peter)


	7. Chapter 7

Obsession – Chapter 3

“Okay Parker, try to top this. My first couple today: the guy orders a plain hamburger and the woman with him a hamburger ketchup only, right? So, I serve them and am about to go to my next table, when they call me back. The man says he ordered it plain but got ketchup and the girl says she wanted ketchup but got a hamburger plain. Apparently I mixed up the plates when I set them down. _Big deal, right?_ So they look up at me like I had ruined their whole meal. I bent down again and picked up the plates, walked around to the other side of their table, and then set the plates down again, this time in the right order. The guy goes ‘That’s better. You be more careful in the future, young man. Not everyone is as understanding as us.’ I have no idea if they were trolling me, or if it really didn’t occur to them to just switch the plates themselves.”

His fellow waiter said, as he struggled out of his work uniform and into his usual street clothes. Peter laughed as he did the same.

“Sorry Brian, but prize for _'worst customers of the shift’_ is definitely mine tonight. I had just asked this sweet looking elderly lady if there was anything else I could do for her, she says no, so I continue on my way through my section. I haven’t even taken five steps away from her table, when she _throws her teaspoon_ at my head. Turns out she wanted to see the dessert card again, and couldn’t be bothered to think of this two seconds before, when I specifically asked her, or just call out to me to come back. She did this two more times. I was this close to replacing her cutlery with a plastic spork, though she would have probably thrown her glass at me then. When she finally demanded the check, via spoon to my head, of course, she gave me a tip of exactly ten cents, and wrote on the receipt that I_ needed to be more attentive to my guests._”

Brian laughed as well (because in this business, you either learned to take people’s atrocious behavior with humor, or you developed an ulcer from all the repressed anger)

“Fine, you win on account of flying silverware. You gonna be in tomorrow?”

Peter shook his head as he finished putting his work clothes into his locker and grabbed up his backpack. He noticed that one of the straps needed to be taped together again, the old duct tape beginning to peel off.

“Nah, man. I need to finish an assignment for my main, so I traded shifts with Becky. I’ll be here for the late shift on Friday.”

Brian grimaced in sympathy. “Damn, my condolences, man. All those nine to five, Monday to Friday people ready to cut loose.”

Peter let out a forlorn sigh. “Tell me about it. Friday’s are the worst.”

The two left the restaurant through the back door, thankfully being able to navigate the narrow alley easily by now, as it was already dark outside and the lamp that was supposed to light up the backstreet, had been shattered a long time ago. The two walked together, bantering friendly with each other, until they reached an intersection.

“Well, see you later, Pete. Good luck on Friday, try not to let yourself get groped too much!”

“Like anyone has ever been able to work a Friday night without a bruised butt to show for it. Later!”

They bumped their fists together in farewell, before Brian went right and Peter turned left down the street.

He was exhausted. While it hadn’t been a particularly busy shift at the restaurant, Peter had had a very early class this day, as well as two tutoring sessions in between his afternoon lectures. Thank god their manager had taken pity on them and closed the restaurant thirty minutes earlier than usual. Now Peter might just make it home before midnight. It was a bit of a walk to his and his aunts apartment, but the restaurant paid it’s workers above minimum wage and the tips were usually pretty decent as well. So the almost fifty minute travel on foot was well worth it. Also, the lengthy walk presented a chance for him to go through his mental check list and think through the assignments he still needed to hand in, as well as his schedule for the next few days.

So deeply in thought was he, that he didn’t notice the group of six men that followed him into the alley he used as a shortcut.

Until he was suddenly grabbed by his shoulder and spun around and against the dirty wall to his right. His eyes widened in fear when he looked at the group of rough looking men in front of him.

“Now what do we have here? Out for a late night stroll, little lamb?”

The brunette resented that remark. He was not a 'little lamb’, okay? Just because he had a bit of a baby face and wasn’t as brawny and muscly and tall and intimidating and rough looking and… on second though, he got it.   
He pressed himself further into the brick wall at his back, when the man in front of him, (the apparent leader of the group) slowly pulled a jackknife out of his pocket. He held his hands up defensively.

“U-uhm,… hey,… uh.. look, I don’t want any trouble, okay? If, if it’s money you want, I d-don’t have much, but you can have it! Okay? There is totally n-no need for any violence.”

The man in front of him and his compatriots grinned widely and dangerously at that.

“Oh really? Well then, why don’t we-”

“Hey! I called the police! Drop the knife and get away from him!” Was suddenly shouted from the entrance to the alley. The group of thugs looked at each other, at Peter, and then at the figure that was speedily making their way towards them.

“This isn’t worth the trouble, let’s scram!”

And just like that, the six would-be robbers ran the other way, out of sight.

Peter’s knees nearly buckled with relief, and he hastily bent over and breathed deeply.

“Oh thank god…”

“Hey, you okay there?”

He almost flinched at the words, before realizing that his timely rescuer must have reached him while he was fighting off his shock.

“Yeah,.. yeah, I’m… I’m okay. I’m… thank you. Thank you so much! I-”

“Hey, hey, breathe. It’s alright. All safe now, okay?”

The male voice was deep and calming, and as a strong hand started stroking his back in comforting circles, Peter slowly managed to relax. He took a long breath, and then straightened back up.

“Thank you, again. I… I don’t even know why this stuff still gets to me like this. This is hardly the first time I have been mugged.”

It was hard to make out detailed features in the dim light of the alley (all Peter knew regarding his rescuers appearance so far, was that he was a bit taller than himself, a lot broader than himself, and had a beard), but he noticed how the man in front of him stiffened at his words.

“You have been assaulted before?”

Peter shook his arms out, feeling like he needed to move a little, to get rid of what was left of his shock.

“Well, I wouldn’t call it assault. I mean, if you just give them your money, they leave you alone. Sometimes they don’t even get their weapons out.”   
He almost didn’t notice when the man wrapped a supportive arm around his waist and steered him out of the dark alley and to the main road. He let himself follow the others lead easily, thankful for the strong arm around him, as his knees were still a little shaky. He just kept rambling.  
“So, nobody gets really hurt. But, yeah, muggings are pretty common here, especially when it’s this late at night. I know this sounds bad, and it kinda is. But I’m really, really glad that you were there, because I really need the money I made tonight to buy some parts to repair that stupid heater in the apartment, since the landlord refuses to acknowledge that there is a problem with it. And the forecast said to expect a cold wave for next week, and my aunt just got over her bout with the flu.”  
They had at this point made it to the well lit street, and Peter was finally able to get a real look at the man who saved him, while the slowly decreasing adrenaline continued to make him spit out a horrendously embarrassing amount of word vomit.  
“So, really, I’m so very, very grateful to y-”

The following words got stuck in his throat.

That was Tony Stark.

He had been saved from being mugged by **Tony Stark**, and then made an absolute fool of himself by babbling like the complete idiot he truly was. _Oh god_. That thug should have just stabbed him, at least he wouldn’t have embarrassed himself by bleeding out on the ground. Then again, if anyone could make a fool of himself while dying, it would be Peter Parker.

And now Tony Stark was looking at him weirdly. Oh god, he hadn’t said any of that out loud, had he?!

“Are you okay, Peter?”

As soon as the name slipped out, Tony wanted to kick himself. _He wasn’t supposed to know Peter’s name yet!_

“I-I,… yeah, I,… you are Tony Stark… you are one of the brightest minds of this century and I just… I uhm. I uh, hi. … Hi, I’m Peter Embarrassed. PARKER! Oh, my, god. I’m Peter Parker. And really embarrassed. Hi.”

Tony almost sighed in relief. It seemed Peter hadn’t noticed his little slip. He smiled.

“Hello Peter Embarrassed Parker. I’m Tony Stark, but you already know this.” He couldn’t help but tease a little, and he relished in the deeply red blush that overtook the brunettes face.

The younger man then buried his head in his hands.

“You know, I should just legally change my name to this? It would be accurate, at least.”

Tony snickered, and then gently pried Peter’s hands away.

“Don’t worry about it. I would pick the embarrassed, tousle haired, cute guy, over the usual reaction my name inspires, every day. It’s very charming.”   
Which wasn’t an exaggeration at all. The last rabid Tony Stark fan he had encountered during the Stark Expo, had ripped his shirt off and thrown himself bodily at the genius.

He didn’t think it was possible for Peter to blush even more, but there you go. Damn, he really was cute.   
But even Peter’s adorably flustered self couldn’t change the fact that it was well past 11 pm, and there was a chill wind out. And Peter was only wearing a thin jeans jacket. Tony really needed to get the precious thing home.

“You probably already figured that out, but that bit about me calling the police was a bluff. Which means there is no reason for us to keep standing around here. So, where to?”

He gestured to the sleek, red sports car that was parked, only a few feet from them, along the sidewalk. (Was the hot rod red polish a bit much? Possibly. Were the golden hubcaps a bit much? Definitely. But what could Tony say? He wasn’t a very subtle man)  
Peter’s eyes widened dramatically, when they landed on it, and he quickly shook his head.

“Oh, no, Mr. Stark. I couldn’t possibly make you drive me home after everything you have already-” But Tony nipped this in the bud right away.

One finger placed over his lips had Peter all but holding his breath. Tony looked directly into the deep, brown eyes before him, his voice just a touch lower than before.

“Let me drive you home, Peter.”

He didn’t remove his finger from the soft lips until the younger man nodded his head slightly, and instantly missed touching them.

<strike>He would taste those lips soon enough.</strike>

He guided Peter, hand gentle but firm on the small of the brunettes back, to the passenger side of his car and opened the door for him. Peter tried once more to feebly protest.

“Really, Mr. Stark, you don’t have to-” and was just as easily rebuffed as the first time.

“I insist. Wouldn’t do to have kept you from being mugged by those guys, just to give someone else a chance on the rest of your way home now, would it?”

He narrowly kept himself from buckling Peter in, that might have been just a bit too much at this stage of their <strike>relationship</strike> acquaintance, and simply shut the door when Peter was seated. He quickly walked around the hood of the car, glancing covertly through the windshield to see as chocolate brown eyes stared in amazement at the luxurious furnishings of the car’s inside. _Peter’s reactions were so endearingly genuine_. Then he was behind the wheel, forgoing the seat belt as he usually did, and started the engine.

“Where do you live?”

He knew, of course, but he could not allow himself to slip up again. He had gotten lucky the first time. So he waited for Peter to rattle off the address and pulled onto the street.

“So, how come you were out so late in the first place, especially in an area where people regularly get robbed?”

Again, Tony already knew this, but he wanted to get Peter talking a bit more. It would help alleviate the younger man’s nervousness, and also, Tony enjoyed the sound of the youngers voice very much. He listened contentedly as Peter told him about his job as a waiter at the 8 Islands restaurant, which he had taken on to help his aunt pay the bills, while he studied at Berkeley college in New York.  
Skillfully asking questions about topics he knew Peter would answer passionately to, Tony relished in the conversation they were having. While most of the the things Peter 'revealed’ to him, were already known by Tony, the simple act of talking with the younger man was so… so… He didn’t know how to describe it. Though Peter was still a bit embarrassed and rather shy, he answered all of Tony’s inquiries openly and honestly.   
Honesty was such a rare treat for Tony to come across. People always tried to make themselves out to be more interesting, more daring, more experienced, more smart, just overall _more_ than they truly were. The billionaire couldn’t remember the number of fake personas he had met in his life, who would tell him all the things that they thought he wanted to hear, that they believed he would find alluring, just for all of it to come crashing down at a later time.

_But Peter was different. _  
  
He freely admitted that he personally didn’t hold more than a passing interest in mechanical engineering, though still admired the progress that Tony had made in the field.  
No false praise along the lines of: 'Oh, Tony, you are the most genius man on this earth.’ even though it was readily apparent that the person knew nothing about what Tony even did.   
How often had Tony heard things like: 'Oh, Tony, I was so fascinated by your presentation of the latest Starkphone design.’, even though the person had no idea what the terms 'Interface’, 'CPU’ or 'AMOLED’ meant.

Peter didn’t try to make himself seem perfect, or flawless. “I should have known that those chemicals wouldn’t mix the way I needed them to, and I would have, had I just taken the time to research them properly. But I was just being a brat. Totally full of myself, thinking I knew better than the teacher. So, yeah, that literally exploded in my face. I definitely deserved having to clean it all up myself.”

How often did people just try to skirt around their own accountability? How often did they try to shrug off any responsibility for their own actions? How often had Tony heard the phrase: 'Well, that wasn’t my fault.’ and 'Well, someone else messed up.’ or 'Well, I couldn’t be expected to account for that.’

Peter was curious, but not invasive. He asked Tony questions about one of his current projects, but didn’t even _try_ to pry into his private life. (Though Tony would gladly allow him to) One would think this common decency, to not ask deeply personal questions of someone you had known for barely five minutes. But normal etiquette rules didn’t apply to famous people.   
Be it reporters shoving their microphones in his face, screaming questions at him about how his break up with Virginia Potts would impact the future of Stark Industries; or the runway model that approached him in a club, asking if it was true that he was into orgies; or any random person he would come across anywhere, feigning sympathy while inquiring how his rehab was going.

Peter was a rambling fountain of scientific curiosity (and maybe he had a little oversharing problem), but he was respectful and polite and sweet.

Tony had already purposely taken three wrong turns, just to extend their time in the car together that little bit longer.   
But all good things had to come to an end, and soon Tony parked his car on the side of a dilapidated looking apartment building. Which meant that now it was time for part two of his plan.

“I really can’t thank you enough, Mr Stark. Not anyone would have done what you did, you know? I just,… if there is any way I can make it up to you…”

Most people in Peter’s situation right then, would have said this in a tone of voice that suggested a sexual favor in payment for the good deed. Would have moved their body in an alluring way, would have licked their lips seductively, would have touched his arm or thigh in a clear indication of what they had in mind.

But not Peter. Peter was genuine in his gratitude. Peter really just wanted to find a way to thank the man who helped him. No ulterior motives, no underhandedness.

And he had played right into Tony’s hand. 

He killed the engine and turned to the younger man.

“Well, if you are that hellbent on thanking me, there is actually something you could do for me.”

Peter nodded eagerly. “Anything.”

And oh, what delicious, debauched, fantastical images ran through his mind at that word. _Anything_.

But he shook such thoughts off. It wasn’t time for that yet.

“See, there is this charity event coming up, and I just know that it’s going to be dreadfully boring, just as these things always are.” He rolled his eyes for effect, before fixing them on Peter again. He allowed himself to be a bit daring, and brought his hand up to cradle the side of Peter’s face in it. “Being in the company of such a delightfully brilliant young man as you, would surely make it much more bearable. So, wanna be my plus one?”

Tony had no idea whether it was the sudden physical contact, or the matter of the question itself, but his gorgeous sweetheart looked completely overwhelmed.

“I… I couldn’t… I… but I’m just… “

It seemed the only words Peter was capable of forming right then, and Tony decided not to give him the chance of coming up with a reasonable excuse to decline the invitation. He softly stroked his thumb along the heated skin of the others reddening cheekbone.

“Of course you can. Here, give me your phone number, I will send you all the details tomorrow.”   
Peter drew his phone out of his pants pocket on autopilot, and Tony snatched it up with his other hand, before the sweet thing regained enough of his faculties to register what he was doing. He quickly called himself with Peter’s phone (and used the connection to install a cloning program on it, that he had prepared before hand.) “When are you free to go to a tailor? I bet you would look ravishing in a smart suit.”

Peter didn’t answer, still caught between trying to find the words to convince the older man that he was not 'important-charity-event’ material, and the hypnotizing sensation of having a rough, strong thumb running along his cheekbone. The sudden click of his seat belt releasing, and the slight pressure of his phone being pressed back into his hand, partly brought him back to reality.

Mr Stark smiled at him.

“Let me walk you to the door, Peter. I need to make sure you make it all the way home safely, don’t I?”

And before Peter really knew how he had even gotten out of the car, he was two steps away from the door to his and aunt May’s apartment complex, his phone clutched in his hand, backpack slung over his shoulder, and Mr Stark’s arm once again solidly wrapped around his waist.

The man steered him the last two steps before the buildings entrance, and then leaned down to his ear.

“Open the door, Peter.”

And Peter did, fishing his keys out of the side pocket of his backpack and unlocking the door, all in quick succession, not even thinking about it. As soon as the door sprung free of its lock, Mr Stark tightened his arm around his waist, giving him a slight squeeze.

“Good boy.”

Peter blamed the shudder that ran through his body right then on the cold wind.

Then the arm around his waist carefully turned him to face the taller man, while also maneuvering him through the opened doorway and into the entrance hall.

“I will contact you tomorrow.” The arm was gone from his waist, but the hand was suddenly back on the side of his face, and the thumb was again stroking lightly over his cheek.

“Go to sleep now, Sweetheart.”

Had he really heard that? Had Tony Stark really just called him, _little nobody Peter Parker_, Sweetheart? But before he could think even further on this, there was the sensation of a pair of lips on his other cheek.

“Sweet dreams, Peter.”

“Y-You t-too, M-Mr S-Stark.” He somehow managed to stammer out, while bringing a hand up to the cheek that had** just been kissed by the genius engineer in front of him**. The same genius engineer who then smiled sweetly at him.

“Call me Tony.”

He could not do that. He could not _possibly_ be that informal with someone of Mr Stark’s stature.

“Sweet dreams… T-tony.” _How the hell had he done that?_

And then Tony smiled at him again, and as he leaned into the entrance way, Peter didn’t know if he expected to be kissed again on the cheek, or maybe this time on the lips, or for Tony to follow him in, but what he certainly didn’t expect, was for the other man to grab hold of, and then close the door. 

As the 24 year old Berkeley student stood there, staring at the closed door, unmoving for a whole 31 seconds, he couldn’t decide if he was relieved, or disappointed that Tony hadn’t kissed him again.

* * *

Making his way back to the car, Tony felt like whistling to himself. This had gone exceptionally well. More so, the way Peter had reacted to him had trumped all of his expectations. It had been **perfect**.   
So perfect in fact, that not even the sight of Barnes leaning against his car, arms crossed over his chest and looking absolutely unimpressed, could dampen Tony’s mood right then.

He grinned at the man.

“Gotta hand it to Natasha, you really are good. Since when have you been following me?”

He wasn’t even perturbed about not having spotted the man sooner. Just thinking about that shudder that had gone through Peter when he had called him a 'good boy’, as well as the easy way Peter had followed his lead, killed any annoyance he might have felt otherwise right at the spot.

The bodyguard shrugged. “Since you left the tower. Without telling anyone. Again.”

Interestingly enough, Barnes didn’t seem all that annoyed by that, either.

“You know there are easier ways to ask someone out, than to hire a group of thugs to stage a mugging, right?”

Tony scoffed as he climbed into his car, only a little surprised when Barnes got in on the other side.

“I didn’t hire anyone. Diego and his little gang still owed me.” He turned the key in the ignition, giving the gruff looking man next to him a questioning look.

“Don’t you have to get your bike or something? Or did you follow me all the way on foot?”

Again, the other man just shrugged.

“It’s taken care of. Should I be preparing a security detail for Mr Parker?”

Tony was almost impressed by Barnes knowledge of Peter, but then again, he probably shouldn’t be. After all, this was the man that Natasha had recommended.

“Yeah. As I have very recently discovered, this part of the city is even more unsafe than I thought. But get someone discreet. Or better yet, you do it. Natasha is scheduled to arrive back tomorrow, which should free you up some. I don’t want Peter knowing that he is being <strike>watched</strike> protected. At least not yet.”

Barnes only nodded, and Tony decided he liked the man.

* * *

* * *

tbc.


	8. Chapter 8

##  [Possible TonyxPeterxPepper fic](https://lurafita.tumblr.com/post/185197299529/possible-tonyxpeterxpepper-fic)

I know I should be working on the next part for Obsession, and I am. But this came to me after seeing a few posts about there being criminally few fics with Tony and Pepper sharing Peter. This does need a ship name by the way. Pepperonispider? Red Starker? So, this is kind of a prompt/drabble/maybe will continue fic? 

no powers au!

Peter is 18+ (college student?)

Anyway, here goes:

“So, it’s like this. It’s not that we are too different for us to work as a couple, it’s that we are too _alike_.   
“Pep likes to be the dominant one in bed, I like to be the dominant one in bed. We both _don’t_ like to be the one ‘taking it’, if you know what I mean.   
“She likes to tie her partner up, I like to tie my partner up. We _both_ don’t enjoy being the one tied up, though.   
“She likes taking care of someone and spoiling them, I _love_ taking care of someone and spoiling them, but we both don’t like being taken care of and are fully capable of spoiling ourselves.   
“We **do** love each other, and we try giving each other what we want and need, but it’s just… We feel incomplete? Does that make sense? You get what I mean?”

Tony was met by the wide eyes of his best friend, one James “Rhodey” Rhodes, after finishing his explanation. The highly decorated Air force Colonel took a deep breath and lightly massaged his temple with one hand.

“Okay, clearly this was my fault for being vague. See, when I said_ ‘Hey Tones, how are things going with you and your wife?’ _I was actually referring to things like,_ ‘how are you’ _and_ ‘have you made any plans to go on vacation’ _or_ ‘how are things with the company’_. What I was absolutely **not** asking about, was your guys sex life. Sorry to have apparently confused you with this. Seriously, my bad.”

Tony rolled his eyes in response, and then got up to get himself and Rhodey another drink form his bar. 

“Don’t get cute with me, Platypus. I’m actually serious about this. We tried signing up to one of those sugar baby websites, thinking maybe we just need to add someone to our relationship, that would fill the parts we both can’t be for each other. But it just didn’t feel right.   
“Most of those people were college students and wanted just a temporary arrangement. Some others were just too damn professional about it, felt like talking to your accountant. And non of them really sparked any _interest_ in Pep or me.”

He pressed the glass of expensive scotch into his oldest friend’s hand and retook his seat across from him. Taking a quick sip of his own drink, Tony continued.

“I’m not trying to be one of those emotional saps who make everyone sick, but I don’t just want someone to be our sex toy. We need someone who we can have a real connection with, beyond just simple attraction, if this is supposed to work for the long run.”

While Tony was looking contemplatively at the contents of his glass, Rhodey downed his scotch in one go, got up to refill his glass, downed that one too, refilled his glass once more, and then went back to his seat. 

“Okay. I understand what you are saying, Tones. I kinda wish I didn’t, but I do. I get it. What I don’t get, is what you expect me to tell you. I’m an Air force Colonel, not a matchmaker for polyamorous couples.”

Tony waved him off. 

“Your wife has a girlfriend and you all seem to be very happy with the arrangement. Which makes you my primary and closest source for information on this.”

The other man groaned.

“Number one, Carol already knew and loved Monica before she met me, and number two, I’m not dating Monica as well, and Monica has no physical or romantic interest in me. We don’t all love each other the way I understand you and Pepper want to both love a third party.”

“Oh _c’mon_, there must be some kind of advise you can give me here!”

Rhodey chose instead to down his third glass of high quality scotch.

“Where is Pepper anyway?”

Tony huffed out a puff of air as he, too, threw his drink back like the bottle it had come out of didn’t cost 15000 dollar.

“Talking with Natasha about this exact same thing. And if you don’t step up your game here, the redheads are gonna come up with a solution before us. Which means Pepper will get to be in charge of the foreplay for the first time when we find the right person.”

“Okay!”

Rhodey clapped his hands together loudly before standing up and heading for the exit of the room. 

“That’s about all the talk about my best friends sex life I can take for one night. I’ll be crashing in one of your guestrooms, drank too much to drive myself back. Do me a favor and don’t tell me what Pepper and Nat come up with. Good night Tones.”

“But Rhodey-bear! You don’t _understand_! She is gonna get to be the first to cuff them to the bed! This is _important_!”

“**Good night, **Tony!”

Tony grumbled.

“Good night you damn traitor.”


	9. Chapter 9

##  [Obsession Chapter 4 part A](https://lurafita.tumblr.com/post/185386302584/obsession-chapter-4-part-a)

“Okay, how about this one?”

Peter asked, as he held yet another science pun shirt up into the camera of his propped up phone, waiting for his friends’ verdict. 

The two small chat windows on the screen showed their less than impressed reactions.   
MJ rolled her eyes and Ned shook his head.

“Pete, you are my brother from another mother, but if you go on a date with _Tony Stark _in one of your dorky t-shirts, we can no longer be friends.”

Peter’s face did it’s best to imitate a tomato.

“It’s not a date! He is just taking me to his tailor to get me a suit for this charity event.”

The young woman side eyed him through the camera. 

“Dressing you up for a date, then. It’s like a pre-date. Which means you can’t wear _this_.”  
She pointed to the shirt with an expression of mild disgust and Peter let it drop to the floor in defeat.

“I still can’t belive **the **Tony Stark rescued you from being mugged! And then asked you on a date! It’s like… What even is your life, dude?”

The brunette buried his head in his hands, groaning and muttering “Not a date.” He was ignored.

“It’s his twink energy. He looks totally unassuming at first glance, but then he points those bambi eyes at you and that’s it. It’s this weird vibe of adorable little puppy in a sex kitten package, and you either want to smother him in hugs, or fuck him through the mattress.”

Both Peter and Ned looked at their female friend with varying degrees of shock. Ned was the first to respond to her. 

“Talking from experience there, MJ? Do I need to be jealous?”

As was the young womans go-to response, she rolled her eyes. 

“I was quoting the latest comment on one of your losers food fetish videos. don’t worry babe, I only have eyes for you.” 

She blew him a kiss. He grinned at her. 

“Good to know. But just so you know, I’m not opposed to watching, if you ever want to _‘fuck Pete through the mattress’_.”

She scoffed.

“Don’t be ridiculous. If Stark doesn’t tap that, we’ll screw him together.”

They both smirked at each other, and Peter was about to pass out from embarassment.

“Guys, please! Can you do your _‘torture the virgin’_ routine another time? You know, when I’m not in desperate need of fashion advise and on a time limit?”

The last part sounded a tiny bit hysterical, so his friends took pity on him. 

“When is Mr. Stark picking you up?”

“In less than an hour! **Help me!**”

“Peter, calm down. This isn’t this complicated. Put on the white shirt aunt May got you for our highschool graduation. Since you have hardly done any growing after you turned fifteen, it should still fit.”

Peter shot her a dirty look for the comment about his height, but obidiently trekked back to his closet and dug through his assortment of geeky/nerdy tops, until he finally found what Michelle was referring to. He yanked it out triumphantly.

“Okay! Got it! Thanks so much, MJ!”

He lost no time stripping off his hoodie and shrugging on his graduation shirt, that indeed, still fit. 

“Hold up, nerd. We are not done. Take your pants off.”

Ned gaped and Peter almost flinched. 

“What? Are we back in threesome territory all of a sudden?”

“Don’t get cute with me, Parker. One, you are not wearing those tattered, washed out jeans with that shirt. And two, we need to do a panties check.”

Tomato face Parker, there ws a new potential nickname. 

“I-I-I’m not wearing panties, okay?!”

He very manfully ignored Ned’s muttered “Maybe you should.” and went on stuttering. 

“And it’s not like To-Ton- Mr. Stark is going to see my underwear!”

Cue MJ’s patented eyeroll.

“You are going to a tailor, so yes, there is a more than average chance that Stark is going to see your underwear. Now, pants off, chop chop.”

Mortified, Peter did. 

Little did the three know, that someone had been following their private conversation from the start. 

Eyes fixed on the holo screen his phone was projecting into the air, Tony watched enraptured as a clearly embarrassed Peter struggled out of his jeans with as much dignity as possible.

Cloning the young student’s phone had truly been a stroke of genius. 

It had only been the day before yesterday that he had ‘saved’ the cute brunette from Diego and his gang. He had wasted no time the next day to make an appointment with his favorite tailor, Alfonse, for Peter, and then text his darling about it. _(Since Peter kept a meticulous schedule of all his classes, tutoring sessions and work shifts in his phone’s calender, it had been easy for Tony to find a time in which Peter would definitely be free.)_

Telling Pepper that she had to arrange a huge charity gala for him and his plus one to attend on such short notice, had not gone as smoothly. His P.A. was sending him death glares every chance she got. He would give her a substantial raise for her trouble.  
But this wasn’t something the billionaire wanted to think about right now. Not with the tantalizing view in front of him. 

Pale, smooth, slim but still toned looking legs as far as the eye could see. Tony suspected that neither the holo screen nor Peter’s ancient phone’s camera, were doing his sweetheart justice, and he couldn’t help his physical reaction to the thought of seeing the naked skin for real. 

_Soon_.

At the tailor’s.  
In his home.  
On his bed.  
_Wrapped around his-_

He had to stop. He was _not _getting an erection in the backseat of his limosine, watching his_ soon to be_ boyfriend skyping with his friends, a block away from Peter’s apartment complex. 

This was a first for him. Being early for something. He usually enjoyed being fashionably late to pretty much any appointment, party, or meeting that came along. 

But the thought of having Peter in close proximity again… He just hadn’t been able to contain himself. 

Happy, his driver, was unsurprisingly not thrilled with the prospect of sitting in the car for another 40 minutes, until it was _actually _time to pick up Tony’s date, and had gone to a nearby vendor to get himself and his boss some coffee.

Not that Tony minded.

He was greatly entertained with watching his sweetheart try on different articles of clothing on behest of his two best friends. _(He had not been thrilled with the other two students suggesting a threesome with Peter, but as it had clearly been a joke meant to tease Peter, he discarded the immediate desire to make them disappear. Also, since their little banter had led to Tony finding out that Peter was still a virgin…   
Tony would be his first. And his **last**.)_

And since they had now graduated to underwear… 

Peter was wearing a loose pair of boxer shorts, which in Tony’s opinion, was truly tragic. They did absolutely nothing for what the billionaire just knew had to be a delectable ass. And as he watched the woman, Emnay? DJ?, bully the younger man into another, tighter pair of dark briefs, he couldn’t help but agree with Peter’s other friend, Ed,.. Ted?  
His darling would look delicious in some silky, lacy panties. 

Maybe he could talk to Alfonse about it. Maybe if Peter were made to believe that a high quality suit required a form fitting type of underwear…

He stopped this train of thought when his dick twitched in happy anticipation.

Not yet.

Not yet. 

But _soon_.

______________________________________________________________

tbc


	10. Chapter 10

##  [Obsession Chapter 4 Part B](https://lurafita.tumblr.com/post/186472167249/obsession-chapter-4-part-b)

Fair warning, this story might be discontinued after this chapter, as I really don’t know where to go with this. 

Should anyone want to make use of the parts written so far, and continue this story (or change things and rewrite it), I do not mind at all. Please feel free to use whatever you want.

When Tony had been 5, before the family business really took off, his mother and father used to take him along when meeting clients and investors, so that he could either charm the adults, or play with their kids.   
Quite frequently, such visits had taken place at the house of one of their oldest and weathiest investors, who had a granddaugther about his age. 

While Tony and the girl _(he had long since forgotten her name)_, had gotten along as well as any five year olds did, he had never quite been able to understand why his playmate had always preferred playing dress up with her various dolls with him, when they could have done something much more cool. Like playing with robots or trying their hands on building things with Lego’s and the like. 

Now though, while leaning back in a plush chair in the luxurious tailor shop, occasionally sipping from the scotch in his hand, and watching entranced, as Sergio carefully and precisely took Peter’s measurements, he thought he may understand the little girls fondness for it. 

Peter was standing on a little platform, blushing and awkward, while the old master tailor was flitting around him, moving him this way and that, lifting up his arm, directing his legs further apart, and running the measuring tape along every curve of his body. Had Tony not known that Sergio was a: simply comitted to his work, and b: asexual, he would be burning with jealousy right now, watching someone else touch his sweetheart like this. 

“Mr. Stark, t-this really isn’t necassary. I’m sure I c-could rent a suit somewhere.”

The little embarrassed stutter was too adorable. 

“Please, Peter. We have been over this. It’s Tony. And why rent something that has been worn by someone else before, when you can wear a suit that has been tailored specifically for you?”

He would not tolerate Peter wearing some other man’s clothes.Tony’s own, of course, were another matter entirely. He could picture it so easily, sitting across from each other in his penthouse kitchen, after having spent the night making passionate love. Peter in nothing more than one of Tony’s shirts. Which would swamp the younger’s smaller frame, showing a generous portion of the soft skin on his neck and shoulder _(which would be covered in numerous love bites)_, hanging down to his mid thighs, and ride up whenever his little lover would bend just the slightest bit, rewarding Tony with a glimpse of that delicious, tight-

“Tony. Really, this is… it’s too much. I’m supposed to be **thanking you**, and yet you are having a suit made **for me**. This must cost a fortune.”

Well, Tony could concede that $89,000 for a suit might possibly count as a ‘fortune’ for regular people._ (And he was not going to tell Peter how much the bespoke suit cost. The poor thing would likely faint.) _  
But he was Tony Stark, and this was pocket change. Also, his closet was full of far more expensive clothes than this.   
And so would Peter’s, in time.   
But it wouldn’t do to overwhelm the college student, so Tony had told Sergio to keep the suit under a 100k. 

“Believe me, Sweetheart, accompanying me to the gala is worth much more than what I’m spending on the suit. Also, I’m quite enjoying the show.” 

A little smirk, a flirty wink, and Peter was blushing to the roots of his hair.   
His fluffy, begging-Tony-to-card-his-fingers-through, hair.

Sergio, well-versed in the ways of discretion, didn’t react at all to his best customers flirting with the younger man, and instead politely asked Peter to remove his shirt and pants, so that they could do some test fittings. 

As the brunette tried not to stumble while undressing _(as well as get the redness in his cheeks down some)_, Tony leaned back again in the chair, took another sip from his glass, and fantasized about all the clothes he was going to buy his little darling, and have him parade in. 

Oh yes. He could absolutely understand why the little girl had enjoyed dressing up her dolls. 

—-

“So? How did you like being a pin-cushin and getting decked out in silks and diamonds?”

Peter rolled his eyes.

“I was not getting decked out in _silks and diamonds_, MJ. I was also not getting pricked by any needles, so that’s a ‘no’ to the pin-cushion comparison. I did feel a bit like a rag doll, though. That tailor may have been old, but if he wanted you to stand in a certain way, he had zero qualms about arranging you to his liking.”

MJ was about to say something to this, when Ned shoved his head into the camera frame beside her.

“Dude, you’ve got to show us the suit! I don’t think I have ever seen a bespoke suit outside of television.” 

MJ planted her hand right on her boyfriends face and shoved him back.

“He doesn’t have it yet, idiot. No tailor is that fast, no matter how much money Stark threw at the guy.”

Peter winced a little at the reminder of what such a suit would likely cost. He was trying very hard not to imagine it. 

Perceptive as always, MJ caught his expression, and scoffed.

“Relax, loser. Stark is a billionaire. Buying you one stupid suit is hardly going to put a dent into his bank account. He probably considered it a fair exchange, with him perving on your little twink ass.”

And just when Peter thought he was done blushing horribly for one day.

“MJ!”

She and Ned just laughed in their little skype window on his laptop screen.

“It wasn’t like… he isn’t a pervert, okay? It was… He was,… kinda really… sweet? I mean, I was incredibly embarrassed with the whole setup, naturally, but Mr. St- Tony, he was really reassuring and calm and… it was nice?” 

He stumbled all over himself to try to explain this to his friends. 

“I just mean, I… Look, this is a man I have admired for years. Like, it’s not enough that he is a freaking genius, who revolutionalized energy efficiency all around, but he is also really kind, actually. And funny and charming … and not to be shallow or anything, but he is really, really hot. It just felt good to be complimented by someone like him.”

He finished his explanation with a little shrug, not knowing how to word things better. He had always been terrible with making sense of his own emotions to his friends. 

“Pete, hate to break it to you, man, but you have always been super susceptible to compliments. No matter who they are coming from.” 

MJ nodded to her boyfriends statement.

“True. That praise kink of yours is massive.”

He should really have been used to the feeling of his face growing so hot, so fast, by now. 

“I don’t have a praise kink!”

MJ scoffed loudly and derisively, while Ned snickered. 

“My dude, my man, my buddy! Yeah. You do. You have like the mother of all praise kinks. Remember AP biology with Mr. Finch in highschool? You spent a whole week on a voluntary project, just because Finch said it would mean a lot to him if some of us found some time to put in the research. And when you presented your work to him, and he got all teary eyed because you took it so seriously, I thought you would melt into a puddle of endorphines right there.”

How was it even possible for his blush to intensify?

“That was different! Mr. Finch was the best teacher we had! I just wanted to do something nice for him.”

As his two friends continued to bring up examples of all the times that Peter _just wanted to do something nice _for someone, and Peter tried vehemently to deny that any of that was indication for him having a thing for being praised, Tony bit back a groan of absolute bliss. 

He was back in his penthouse, spread over his half a million dollar sofa, and had been following the conversation between Peter and his two friends ever since the college student had made the call. 

A praise kink. 

If he believed in any kind of deity, he would thank them profusely right now, for his good fortune. 

He could give his boy praise. He would shower him in so much praise, and so much more, that Peter would never even want to hear a nice word from anyone else. 

The images this thought conjured were as delectable, as they were filthy. 

_Such a good boy. _

He would whisper while looking into his eyes, his fingers carding through the fluffly brown locks, as the soft pink lips were wrapped around his cock.

_Doing so good for me, sweetheart. Taking me so well._

He would mumble the words against pale skin, as he thrust himself ever deeper into his lover’s warmth. When he would finally bottom out, fully sheathed inside the younger man, he would stay like this for a few moments and continue to heap loving praise and petnames on his darling. He imagined Peter coming just from this, overwhelmed by the pleasure Tony’s words invoked within him. 

Tony would stay inside while Peter rode out his first orgasm. Then when the brunette had calmed down some, but would still be _oh so sensitive_ from having just come, Tony would start moving. He would have no problem finding the younger man’s prostate, and he would aim for it with every thrust. Peter’s second orgasm would take a bit longer to built up, and Peter would writher and whine and moan so beautifully on the silk sheets. But Tony would get him there, and then they would come together, Peter’s seed coating his perfect belly _(which Tony would lick clean after)_ and Tony’s shooting deep inside, filling his sweetheart up. 

_Marking him forever_.

It didn’t come as a surprise that he was hard. And he was just about to open up his trousers and take care of it, when Peter’s phone sounded a message and the brunette’s expression changed into something very disturbed when he read it.

Tony sat up straight, his painfully hard dick forgotten.

“Jarvis, show me the text Pete just received.”

While Jarvis opened up a seperate holo screen to display the message, the one showing Peter and his friends had the man seemingly deleting the text and shutting his phone off. _(Thankfully Peter hadn’t deleted the text fast enough before Jarvis had made a copy for Tony)_

Ned and MJ had also caught on to Peter’s changed demeanor, and inquired worriedly.

“Pete? What’s up? Got bad news?”

Peter shook his head. 

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

But his friends apparently knew what was going on anyway.

“It was him again, wasn’t it? What did he say?” MJ asked challenging.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Pete! That’s the third new number he has found! This shit has gone on long enough. You have to go to the police!” Ned urged him.

But again, Peter shook his head. 

“We tried that already, remember? I don’t have any proof that the text is from him, and as long as he doesn’t try anything directly, the police can’t do anything. I’ve got the restraining order.”

A scoff.

“Yeah, like that piece of paper is gonna do shit when that psycho finally decides that he has had enough of cyber stalking, and wants to get his hands on you.”

A tired sigh escaped Peter’s lips as he rubbed his eyes. Evidentally this was an old argument. 

“Guys, don’t worry, okay? All he has ever done is send these stupid texts and the occasional creepy phone call. It’s probably just some kind of sick joke for him, or something. It’s okay. I’m gonna check with my service and get a new number again. I’m gonna be okay.”

Tony let the voices of Peter’s friends drift into the background, as they continued to try and convince him to try reporting the situation to the police anyway.   
He couldn’t concentrate on listening to their conversation, as his eyes were fixed on the lines of text displayed before him. His erection had wilted into nothing, rage quickly replacing any desire his fantasy had brought him. 

_~ I can’t wait until you will be finally kneeling before me. I’m going to keep you right there on the ground, beneath me, where you belong. And have you lick my feet and hump my leg, just like the dog you are. I will get you a collar, and let you suck on my big, juicy bone. A little whore like you would love that, wouldn’t you? ~_

How dare he?

How dare this worthless, disgusting piece of shit talk to Peter like this?   
How dare this scum harass Peter like this?   
How _dare _garbage like this even _think _about **Tony’s sweetheart** like _that_?!

And this had been going on for a while? Peter had changed his number three times already? And the police weren’t fucking doing anything?!

No. 

This would not be tolerated. 

Tony was not going to sit back and twiddle his thumbs _(as the police apparently was doing. Fucking useless!)_ while his darling had to endure the harassment of a deranged stalker! 

“Jarvis, call Barnes. I want tighter security around Peter. Also see if you can trace that number to anyone, and try to find previous, probably deleted, messages like this on any of Peter’s devices. And summon Natasha for tomorrow. I have a new mission for her.”

______________________________________________________________

As stated at the beginning, it is very likely that I won’t continue this fic. I don’t know why I worked in that second stalker plotline at the end - it just kinda happened. 

Again, if anyone wants to continue this, get nuts. Seriously, I don’t mind, and you don’t have to take on that second stalker thing if you don’t want to, I really have no idea where that came from. 

Hope you sill liked what has been written up, and I’m really sorry if I have disappointed anyone with dropping things off here. 

I hope you all have a really great week and find at least one thing to smile about every day! You are precious and loved and cherished, so don’t let anyone tell you otherwise!


	11. Chapter 11

Dragonshifter AU

Dragons are timeless creatures, and so is their hoard. A dragon’s hoard can be many things, from books, to plants, to anything the dragon might desire to own. Though most often it is made up of gold and other priceless treasure, sometimes a dragon will add something else. 

Something special.

Anthony was an old dragon, and a powerful one. He knew how to take on different forms, knew how to walk among the humans. Knew how to use the magic in his blood for his own benefit. Knew how to manipulate and trick and cheat. Knew how to fight his way up in the world, and how to use the riches he already possessed to gain more and more. 

When he first found Peter, during the middle ages in which he had established himself as a well off, if eccentric, lord, he had known the young man was special.

He had plucked him off the street just like that, and taken him into his home. 

Peter hadn’t been appreciative, and pleaded to be returned to his family. Which was a ridiculous demand. The hard life that Peter had obviously lived was easy to deduce with his torn and dirty clothing, his thin, almost emaciated frame, and the various little bruises and wounds all over his frail body. Why would Anthony ever return his prize to a life like that?

Binding Peter to his hoard, had made Peter as timeless as he himself was. Time couldn’t touch a dragon, and neither could it touch a dragon’s hoard. While a dragon could, in theory, be killed, the task of slaying one was far from easy. And over the years, with the older, more powerful dragon’s learning how to disguise their massive forms, and tales of their existence fading into fairy tales with every passing decade, it wasn’t as if anyone was even hunting for them. 

Anthony kept Peter chained to his home for the first year, after binding him to his hoard. His prize was too attached to his old life, and had tried running away from the dragon one time too many. 

The dragon had a particular hobby of adorning his human with pieces of his hoard. A gold crown here, a diamond ring there, a finely tailored silk shirt, finished off with a glittering choker. 

As the years went by, Peter got used to being part of the dragon’s hoard, and nightly paramour in Anthony’s bed. While the world around them changed and the people in it advanced, as years turned into decades, and decades into centuries, the two remained, untouched by the hands of time.

Anthony took on the mantles of Lord, King, Duke, Viscount, whatever gave him a position of power. All the while the magic in his dragon blood kept them concealed from suspicion. No one ever questioned why the rich, handsome man and his treasured partner never seemed to age. 

In the year 2010, a little more than 500 years since Peter had been bound to his dragon’s hoard, Anthony went by Tony Stark, owner of Stark Industries, the biggest and most successful company in this world. 

The papers described him as a billionaire, genius, philanthropist, and, to the never ending disappointment for many of his fans, devoted husband.


	12. Chapter 12

##  [This was submitted to me anonymously, and I think it’s very important.](https://lurafita.tumblr.com/post/186956867584/this-was-submitted-to-me-anonymously-and-i-think)

I’m actually not sure why I’m writing you this, because you don’t deserve to be subjected to any of my anger. But I need to vent, and I feel like you wouldn’t attack me for it. Also, I really like your Irondad fics and posts here, and also because you had the option that one could submit a post on anon. So, this is probably gonna be long and awkward, and I’m sorry for that.

The thing is, I don’t personally like Starker. The age gap is just too big for me and I like it more to look at the characters in a platonic setting.

But Starker _shippers_ have never hurt me. In my experience they are very diligent with tagging their content and thus make it easy for people like me to avoid it.

What does hurt me though, is the antis this ship has produced. Even though I blocked the ship tag, I have been exposed to so much hate filled posts from Anti-Starkers, and IronDad fanatics, who seemingly randomly use any post they can to scream about how Starker is pedophilia all the time. I have considered leaving tumblr more than once, due to this.

Because what these people are doing is disrespectful to the highest degree.

My uncle is a pedophile. I was 6 when raped me.   
I was a child.   
I had no concept of understanding what he was doing to me and why. My sister is 9 years older than me, and was 15 at the time. He had no sexual interest in her, or any other teenager, at all.

Because **that** is what pedophilia means. The _sexual attraction_ of someone who_ has gone through puberty_, to someone who **has not.**

My uncle is a pedophile, and he raped me because I was a _prepubescent_ child.   
I was neither emotionally, mentally, nor sexually developed enough to have any kind of understanding for this kind of crime.

I have had years of therapy, I’m 16 years old now, and I consider myself beyond the trauma of that event, but I could never describe to anyone what it felt like back then.

I do know though, if I were to have a sexual relationship now, it would be a completely different experience.   
Hell, even if I were to be raped by someone now, it would be different to when I was a literal child. And not because I have lived through it before. Rape isn’t a kind of experience that one learns from or adapts to like that.

It would be different now, because I’m **16 years old**. I’ve had my first crush, I’ve had my first kiss, I know what it feels like to experience sexual attraction to someone. That is not to say that being raped as a teenager would not be a horrible thing, but it would still be a very different thing from being raped as a child.

Seeing people here calling Starker pedophilia hurts.

They are comparing what has been done to me, a then 6 year old child, to a relationship, that is not only fictional, but also probably often presented in fics as consensual and loving, between a 15/16/17 year old teenager with an adult, and they are saying it’s the same thing.

**It is not. It’s not even in the same hemisphere.**

The first time I saw a post calling Starker shippers pedophiles, I was disgusted. The second time I saw it, I cried.

These people are throwing around a word they don’t understand to attack a ship they don’t like, and in the process, they are making light out of a real crime.

Starker is not pedophilia. The relationship between a teenager and an adult is not pedophilia.

I am a victim of a real life pedophile, and shippers have never hurt me. Antis have.

____________________________________________________________

First I want to say that I’m incredibly sorry that you had to suffer from the shit from Anti’s. I always thought it was only the shippers that were affected by this. (Which is bad enough if you ask me)

I can’t imagine what you must have been through, but I’m happy to read that you have had help in dealing with the trauma. 

I don’t mind that you chose to vent your frustrations on me. If it has helped you at all, then I’m very glad for that.

I would love nothing more than to tell you that Anti’s will one day come to their senses, and realize that what they are doing is very toxic behaviour. But people have attacked other people over fictional characters for as long as I can remember, it has always been wrong, and it will always be wrong, but I doubt it will change any time soon. 

If this stuff continues to get to you, and you decide you need a break from tumblr or other platforms like this, please remember that that is okay. Make sure to take care of yourself first, because you deserve to feel safe, secure and happy. I’m no expert on anything, but if you ever do want to talk, or just rant, my ask and submit will stay open for anon’s.

Everyone who might read and reblog this, remember to tag responsibly.

Any anti who reads this, I sincerely hope you learn from this.


	13. Chapter 13

##  [SIM Tony x Peter](https://lurafita.tumblr.com/post/187376692199/sim-tony-x-peter)

So, I got this prompt/ask a while ago, about writing a Superior Iron Man x Peter piece, and I was all for it.

There are already a lot of pretty great drabbles and fics with this pairings here on tumblr _(and a few on AO3)_, and I was fretting about what kind of content I could add to that.

I thought about maybe just a quick little PWP, you know, to scratch the itch; but then I remembered: I’m not very good with writing smut.

Then I thought: ‘You know… maybe I could get this rolling differently…. In the fics I read, Peter comes across a Tony from _(usually)_ another universe who already IS his superior/evil self. Their relationship comes after that, and is usually more sexual than emotional _(at least from SIM’s part)_ and with lots of kink. Which is fine, don’t get me wrong, I crave those on occasion. But while those fics catered greatly to my love for possessive/dominant characters, my 'feelings-kink’ has gotten a little neglected.

So I thought:

Maaaaaybe I could do a story where Peter and Tony know and like/love each other **before **Tony turns Superior.

And maaaaaaaybe Tony turns Superior **because **of his feelings for Peter.

And maaaaaaaaaaaaaybe someone would like to read that?

This doesn’t play in any specific universe, but rather uses parts of different story lines and circumstances. You are free to picture which ever Spidey you like for it!

## If Love Be My Poison (I Wish For No Cure)

Tony Stark had tried therapy exactly once. After Afghanistan, on the insistence of Pepper, Rhodey and Jarvis. He had sat through three hours of talking with a man that somehow reminded him of the owl in Winnie Pooh.

When the Owl-man had diagnosed him with an inferiority complex _(among other things)_, Tony had stood up, snorted derisively, and left.

When he told Rhodey about Owl-man’s diagnosis, his friend had laughed, clapped him on the shoulder, and said

“Well, even experts get it wrong sometimes. Just try finding someone else, Tones.”

Tony had nodded, though he had never dared to speak to another therapist again.

Because Owl-man had been far too close for comfort with his assessment.

Tony Stark: billionaire, genius, playboy, philanthropist.

An inferiority complex?

The thought was laughable.

True, though.

What else could all his posturing be about, if not that?

It was just so unbearably cliched. The man who had never gotten the recognition he so craved from his father as a child, now shouted out his accomplishment into the world.

_See me! _  
See what I have created!   
Acknowledge my work!

Being brought up in the spotlight didn’t magically gift you with the kind of charm and charisma needed to handle reporters or please a crowd of fans and admirers. It was a skill that Tony had taught himself.

**'The grand life of an eccentric billionaire, read all about Tony Stark’s latest big bash!’**

_Envy me!_

**'The truth is… I am Iron Man.’**

_Adore me! _

**'Watch our exclusive interview with genius Tony Stark!’**

_Look at me!_

It was such a pathetic cliche.

**'Big man in a suit of armor. Take that away and what is left?’**

But it was true.

And it was never as glaringly obvious as now.

“Why not?” He asked, vulnerability clear in his voice, and he hated himself for it. “Why can’t you give this a chance? Give _us _a chance? I love you. That’s not something I say idly, or to a lot of people. I. Love. You. And I know you feel the same, Peter. Don’t even try to deny it. We both know you are the worst liar ever.”

Deep brown eyes looked at him with a touch of true devastation.

“I love you.”

And Tony latched onto those words like a drowning man would grasp at a straw.

“Then let’s do this. Move into the tower with me. Stay with me. _Be _with me. Let’s be one of those disgustingly affectionate couples who can’t keep their hands off each other, even when in public. _Especially _when in public.”

He clasped one of the younger man’s hands in both of his own, squeezing gently, tracing one thumb along the unnaturally soft skin. Peter averted his eyes, but he squeezed back and for a moment, Tony _hoped_.   
But life was never this easy.

“It’s _because _I love you that I can’t be with you. It’s too dangerous.”

The argument wasn’t an unexpected one, and Tony wasn’t about to give up so easily.

“Peter, sweetheart. My life has been dangerous from the moment I was born. Do you know how many times I have been kidnapped?”

His tone was light, encouraging, _playful _even. He didn’t mind making a joke of his own past traumas, if only it would give him the chance of convincing the man he loved.

But Peter didn’t work this way.

“Then that’s all the more reason why I shouldn’t paint any additional targets on your back.”

“Peter-” But he didn’t get to finish, as the brunette abruptly turned to him, eyes shining with unshed tears.

“Everyone,- every single person I loved has died because of it. Or ended up becoming a super villain. Because of **me**.”

“That’s not true.” The older man tried to correct, to reassure, but Peter was becoming agitated.

“It is! The very first and best friend I made when I was a child, turned into the Green Goblin because of _me_! My first girlfriend was killed, because she was trying to help _me_! The guy I thought of as an older brother was possessed by an alien symbiote, because _I_ wasn’t strong enough to handle Venom!”

Tony shook his head vehemently.

“Peter, that’s not-”

But Peter was on a roll now, getting up from the billionaire’s couch they had been sitting on and pacing in front of it.

“Doctor Conners would have never turned into the Lizard, if _I _hadn’t helped him work out my father’s notes.”

Tony got up as well.

“You were trying to help him to develop a formular that let people regrow limbs. Him getting impatient and injecting himself with a barely tested compound isn’t on you!”

But the younger hero hardly listened.

“Otto wouldn’t have gone after Mary Jane if he hadn’t felt betrayed by _me_!”

“Octavius willfully ignored _your warnings_ about the dangers of hooking up the exoskeleton directly to his brain. Harry went behind everyone’s back to get his hands on the serum that turned him into the Goblin. And so far _no one_ has been able to 'handle’ Venom. The fact that you are able to fight that parasite off, is not an indicator that it was in any way your fault that it possessed someone else! **Non **of all this was your fault!”

He had his hands on Peter’s _(deceptively narrow)_ shoulders, head tilted down to look the slightly shorter man in the eyes. Eyes that were red and sad and angry and defeated looking.

“If it wasn’t _my fault_, then how come the people _I love _always end up suffering?”

And for a moment, staring into those brown eyes he loved, that were brimming with tears and pain, Tony hadn’t known what to say. His silence was apparently all the answer Peter needed.

An agonized and bitter smile was formed by the lips that the older man had dreamed about kissing, fantasized of ravishing, as Peter spoke.

“You are a good man, Tony. You are,… wonderful. Smart, funny, caring… You like hiding yourself behind layers upon layers of sarcasm and pretentiousness, but I know you. You are possibly everything I ever dreamed of.”

And there it was. This was the chance he needed, the moment for the genius to swoop in and turn this whole, horrible situation around and proof to Peter that they had a chance. That it would work.

But, again, he was just a second too late.

“You are a fantastic hero, with or without the suit. But technology, even yours, isn’t infallible. And without it, … without it, you are _vulnerable_.”

Tony knew where this was going, and he had to stop it. His hands traveled upwards, cradling the beloved face between them, directing Peter to look right at him.

“Pete, I’m not helpless. I’m not… I’m so sorry about Gwen and MJ and Brock, but I’m not like them, okay? There are plenty of people that I have made enemies of on my own. Who have tried to kill me. Non have succeeded yet. And yours won’t either. Venom is in a Shield containment unit. They have managed to suppress the Lizard. Doc Ock is in Rykers. Harry may be at large right now, but we will get him, too..”

Peter was weakly shaking his head, but he made no move to shake off Tony’s hands.

“We still haven’t found a way to destroy Venom. It will get out again, it always does. Same with Otto. Conners biology will acclimate to the suppressants again, and the Lizard will take over once more. Harry will come back when I least expect him, when I start to feel contend, just like he always does. Your enemies are powerful and dangerous, but when it comes down to it, they are more focused on working on their own agenda. Mine…Mine are _obsessed_. They don’t want to simply kill me. They want to hurt me. And they will use you to do it.”

Peter spoke the words with such certainty, with such helplessness, it broke Tony’s heart.

“Pete. Sweetheart. Look at me. I’m not going to let them. _I won’t leave you_.”

Brown eyes glimmered in the dim lighting of the room, full lips trembling and Tony wanted nothing more right then, than to kiss them. He closed his eyes, and slowly leaned down to where he was still holding Peter’s face gently. Only to come to an abrupt stop, when Peter placed a hand in the middle of his chest, right above his arc reactor. The younger man looked broken, but non the less determined.

“You **_can’t _**promise that.”

Then the slighter hero slipped out of Tony’s hold, and hurried out of the room.

**'Big man in a suit of armor. Take that away and what is left?’**

Tony Stark having an inferiority complex?_ Preposterous!_

**'Technology, even yours, isn’t infallible. And without the suit, you are vulnerable.’**

Genius, billionaire, super hero. Inferior? _Ridiculous!_

**'Big man in a suit of armor. Take that away, and what is left?’**

….

… _Nothing._


	14. Chapter 14

##  [SIM Tony x Peter, part two](https://lurafita.tumblr.com/post/187534704674/sim-tony-x-peter-part-two)

I’ll warn you all upfront, I haven’t gotten any better at writing smut, and this chapter has zero. Actually, this chapter doesn’t even have Peter in it. It’s just a lot of introspection into Tony’s character and how I envision he could slowly slip into SIM-mode. You will likely find this pretty boring.

SIM Tony x Peter, part 2

He had drunken himself into a stupor after Peter had left first the living room, and then the tower.

Alcohol had always been one of his vices, and admittedly not the greatest coping mechanism. However, no matter how truly stupid, and sometimes even abhorrent, he behaved under its influence, the morning after often brought with it a new insight and understanding for his problems.

As well as a headache. Jesus!

“Jarvis, hangover protocol.” He rasped at the ceiling.

The A.I. complied immediately with the demand, lowering the shutters on every window to dim the natural light in the penthouse, and started the coffee maker in the kitchen.

“You should find some Tylenol in your bedside drawer, Sir.”

Tony blindly grabbed for the bottle after prying the drawer open, and swallowed two pills dry.

“Should I order you breakfast, or would you prefer to further endanger your health by ignoring your basic bodily needs, as usual?”

The billionaire let out a long and tormented groan as he got up from his bed _(for which he mentally patted himself on the back. It wasn’t often that his intoxicated mind managed to get his drunk ass into an actual bed, before he passed out)_

“Remind me to program the sass out of you later, J.”

He wouldn’t

“Certainly, Sir.”

Tony slowly made his way across the room, already able to smell the godly brew that was coffee.

“And that’s a no for breakfast. But remind me in a few hours to order something hearty from that one restaurant I like. I’m starting on a new project, and I probably shouldn’t ‘endanger my health’ – as you put it – too much before I get to finish it.”

The coffee was too hot and too strong and exactly what the genius needed right then.

“A new project, Sir? Does this have anything to do with Mr. Parker’s visit and subsequent departure yesterday? I should caution you on making any rash decisions. Research shows that people are very susceptible to such upon experiencing rejection.”

Tony winced at that, but blamed it on the temperature of the coffee.

“Okay, J, one: we are not calling it a rejection. Peter loves me, he is just too worried that something might happen to me, if we started a relationship. That’s not rejection; that’s fear. Two: while this may seem rash, my new project is possibly one of the sanest, safest, and best decisions I have made in my life.”

Which Tony actually believed to be true.

No matter how much he wanted to be angry at Peter for the younger man’s unwillingness to take that step with Tony, he couldn’t.

Peter’s rejection _(god how he hated that word) _might have been a fear based response, but it wasn’t a groundless one. Everything Peter had said last night was the truth.

His enemies _were_ deranged and obsessed with making Spiderman suffer.

Tony _was_ vulnerable without the suit, and there _had_ been instances when his technology had either malfunctioned due to outside tampering, or he himself hadn’t been aware of any danger or not fast enough to activate his suit.

The losses Peter had suffered due to his superhero alter ego, had left the younger man scarred and traumatized, and Tony could hardly fault him for that.

Arriving in her personal lab _(a space he usually loved to share with Peter, but after the events of yesterday evening, the brunette would probably avoid the lab – and the tower as a whole – for a while)_ Tony had narrowed down three major obstacles that stood in the way of him and his love.

The first was his suit.

Peter was right. Technology wasn’t infallible, and Iron Man was due for an upgrade anyway. For years now, Tony Stark had spearheaded any advancements there were in the field of engineering. It was time to take the next step.

_A press of a button and a command typed into his holographic interface, brought up the specs of all of his suits. From the clunky and uncomfortable Mark 1, to the sleek nano-technology Mark 75._

The second problem, was the fragility of his human body.

There would be no point in creating the perfect Iron Man suit, if he fell victim to things like illness, infection, or senility. The age difference between him and Peter was another sore spot. Meeting and falling for the Spiderling when Tony had already been in his late 40’s was bad luck, because it would leave them with that much less time to spend with each other. Bruce and Peter, both sharing an interest in the sciences dealing with biology, cross species dynamics and mutations, had figured out that the spider bite that had given Peter his powers, had also slowed down the rate of cell decay in his body. They had estimated that the brunette would likely live way past a hundred years. Which meant that he deserved far more than the maybe 30 to 40 years that Tony still had in him. If Tony wanted to be with his Baby Boy for as long as possible, the too short human lifespan was a hurdle that needed to be overcome.

_More tapping on the holographic keyboard opened up all the files he had on the Extremis virus._   
The genius had isolated the cause of it’s recipients exploding two years ago, and fixed it. The only reason he hadn’t utilized the new and improved Extremis sooner, was that it was one of those 'too powerful for humanity’ things, that morally uptight people like Rogers would frown upon.   
Also, he hadn’t felt that he needed it, placing far more trust and value into his suits. Just goes to show, doesn’t it? Even Tony Stark was wrong sometimes.

The third major stepping stone were Spiderman’s villains.

This was both the easiest and hardest to fix. The easiest way_ (and quite frankly the one Tony himself would prefer)_ was to kill them. Again, Peter was right. It didn’t matter how many times the spider-themed hero beat them and handed them over into Shield custody, they always found a way out of their imprisonment. And as soon as they did, their main goal was to make Peter pay.

However, Tony also understood why Peter could never bring himself _(or allow anyone else)_ to eliminate them for good.

Harry had been his best friend since childhood, Conners and Octavius had been mentors, and Eddie Brock had been a pseudo older brother. And even disregarding the personal feelings and history that bound Peter to each man, non of them were technically evil.

Harry had been a terminally ill teenager, hoping to escape his father’s fate. The serum he had thought would cure him, had molded and messed up his body and mind, akin to someone who had been drugged or brainwashed.

Conners and Octavius had been decent, even honorable, men, who had sought to use their intelligence and research to help people in need. It had backfired and, as with Harry, twisted their minds, and in Conners case, mutated his body.

Brock had simply been unfortunate to be so compatible with the symbiote that Spiderman had managed to resist and fight off. Being bonded to Venom so thoroughly had changed the man.

The fact that each of the four knew who Spiderman was underneath the mask, but had never shared that information with anyone else, had manifested the believe in Peter that somewhere, deep down, their original, good, selves were still alive. That there was still hope for reversing the transformations, restoring them to the men they used to be.

And while Tony thought it naive, he also understood. After all, it was this penchant to hope where others would have long given up, this forgiveness and purity, that had attracted him to Peter in the first place, when they had just gotten to know each other years ago.

So, no. Tony could never make Peter change his stance on his 'No killing’ policy, and he didn’t want to.

But neither did he want for his love to keep being haunted by the people who had, if anyone were to ask Tony, lost their right to a second chance long, long ago.

Which meant that Tony would just have to deal with them himself.

_More holograms popped up, this time displaying all the information that had been gathered on Doctor Octopus, the Lizard, Green Goblin and Venom. Tony zoomed in on the black alien parasite. _

And he knew just where to start.


	15. Chapter 15

##  [A/B/O fiction](https://lurafita.tumblr.com/post/187557597684/abo-fiction)

Okay, this is purely my opinion on the matter, I mean no offense to anyone! This is highly biased. This is me letting off some steam and frustration. It will most likely not be a completely fair portrayal of the things mentioned in the text. And it will most likely be an exaggeration of some plot points. This is not meant to be offensive, this is not meant to hurt anyone. It is a personal, biased opinion, that is likely not shared by many. 

How to start… Okay, look, I’m probably a little older than most of you, and when I started reading gay (slash) fanfiction, society still wasn’t where it is today with the acceptance of non-hetero relationships. Which had the consequence of many of the fics that I read having a heavy leaning towards homophobic behaviour (from people outside the pairing and sometimes even one or both of the main characters that end up together), discrimination, secret relationships to avoid such discrimination and just the general difficulty of the two same sex lovers finding happiness and acceptance together. 

Unless the author went to the trouble of creating an alternative universe where such discrimination didn’t happen, you could expect at least one homophobic character in a fanfic, in roughly 90% of every fanfic. 

Now, I understand that for some people, the drama and the difficulties such an environment presents to the two lovers, and the challenge to overcome those, makes for some great story telling. I really get that. 

But personally, I grew sick of it. 

As I said, homophobia in some way, whether it was just a tiny instance in a long fic, or the center of the plot, was very, VERY common in fics when I started reading slash fiction, because it reflected upon the society as it was, at the time. And seeing as it wasn’t that long ago that the ban on same sex marriage was lifted, it wasn’t even decades back in time. 

Things got lighter in fanfiction, thank god, over time. It’s actually pretty normal that one guy fancies another guy, or one girl is head over heels for another girl. 

A good change, if you ask me. 

But when A/B/O dynamics were first introduced into fiction and fanfiction, I was elated. Because finally, there was no chance for the homophobic subplot I had come to dread so much. These stories would take place in a society where it was completely normal for two guys or two girls to be together and start a family. How delightful!

….

And then came the downside.

Gender oppression. Omegas having the lowest stance in society. Seen as nothing more than breeding machines. They have regular heats that leave them helpless and brainless and only wanting for some big, strong alpha to knot them. Omegas are lesser. They can be abused. They have little to no rights. And so on, and so forth. 

Oh, and Betas might as well be obsolete… seriously, why are they even there?

sigh.

Again. I understand that telling a story about overcoming obstacles, proving oneself to be worth of more than society see’s their gender capable of, and beating the odds, can make for some remarkable story telling. 

But what I wouldn’t give for stories that told the tale a little differently. Where being Omega simply means that one can bear a child. Where being Alpha simply means that one can impregnate an Omega. Where being Alpha and Omega and in love is not looked down on, or sneered at. 

One could still have fun with things like destined mates, more primal behaviours, and heats and ruts and knots, there can still be some gender stereotypes (just as there are in our actual real society with men and women); but maybe try it without the constrictions of a society that should have been abolished in the middle ages?

Does anyone have any recommendations for me for a fic like that (with Omega Peter, please)?


	16. Chapter 16

##  [Sentinels and Guides](https://lurafita.tumblr.com/post/187730081909/sentinels-and-guides)

Sooooo, it has occured to me, that many fans here, (especially some of the younger ones), might not know what is actually behind all the ‘Sentinel and Guide’ fanlore talk. And that’s a shame, honestly, because the concept lends itself to some of the best fanfictions that I have had the pleasure to read in my time. 

So I decided to put together a little information. 

For an easy and pretty comprehensive overview, please go here: <https://infiniteeight8.tumblr.com/post/68075231337/misspaperlilies-said-what-is-this-sentinelguide>

The post focuses specifically on the show that birthed the Sentinel and Guide craze among fanfiction writers, and it’s really good. 

Now some additional info from me: (p.s., anyone who is versed in the Sentinel/Guide fanlore, please add whatever I missed out on, or correct me if I presented some of the things wrong)

What is a Sentinel?

\- A Sentinel (Watchman, Guardian), is a person with all five of his or her senses being hyperactive/acute. They can see, hear, smell, taste and feel everything many times more than a normal human is capable of. And I’m not talking about not needing glasses to read the newspaper that’s laying across the table. I’m saying the Sentinel would be able to read the fineprint on that newspaper from like fifty feet away. They are able to tell how many people are in a different room, from feeling the body warmth these people give off through the stone wall seperating them. They can focus on someone’s heartbeat to determine if they are lying or not. And many more such useful tricks. 

However, such strong senses can and often turn out to be, a great liability. The sensory input that the Sentinel has to deal with is simply too much. Imagine being able to hear a pin drop in the apartment across the hall, and then being in a crowded mall and having to suffer through this kind of noise. Some strong smells, in fact ALL strong smells, like peppermint, garlic, or cheese, would become completely repungant to such a sensitive nose. Spicy meals are pretty much a no go for someone whose tastebuds have become oversensitized to such an extreme level. Fabrics that normal people don’t have a problem with, would scratch and irritate the skin of a person with a hyperactive tactile sense. Too bright colors or lights would cause constant headaches.   
If one or more senses get aggravated too much, from high input, they can cause ‘Spikes’. Which are usually referred to as sudden pain coming from the area of the sense. Think about it like overusing a certain muscle, to the point where even slightly moving that muscle brings you pain and discomfort.

And that’s not the only drawback. 

There are things called: Zone-out’s. Those are moments when the Sentinel becomes so focused on one sense alone, that they subconciously close off all input from their other senses. This leads to the Sentinel getting ‘lost’ in that one sense, falling into a catatonic state (and becoming incredibly vulnerable to attack). The Sentinel can usually not get out of a zone-out alone, as at least one other sense has to be stimulated for the Sentinel to stop focusing on the one that they zoned on. 

This is where the Guide comes in. 

What is a Guide?

A Guide is a partner to the Sentinel. Someone who watches the Sentinel’s back and helps them control their hyperactive senses.   
A Guide will ground the Sentinel, be a calming influence on them, and often the only one who can get the Sentinel out of a zone-out, or ease a particularly bad ‘spike’ (or even prevent spikes from happening.)  
There are certain excersizes that a Guide will ‘guide’ their Sentinel through, that will help the Sentinel with gaining and maintaining control over their senses.

A popular concept in this regard is the visualization of ‘dials’.   
Picture one of those old stereos, or radios, with the round knobs you had to turn, to increase or reduce volume, bass, etc.   
When a Guide helps their Sentinel control their senses, they sit close together and talk them calmly through the process of appointing each sense to a dial. The dial usually has a scale from 0 to 10. The 0 Level, is when the sense shuts off completely. (And that can be very dangerous, too, and is only done in dire situations). The Level 10 on the other hand, is the one that leads to spikes and zone-outs. (Also to be avoided). Levels 4 or 5 are usually appointed as ‘human’ levels, or the ones that are the most neutral and comfortable for a Sentinel. Under the guidance of a Guide, a Sentinel can dial their senses up and down as needed (dial up sight if one needs to spot a sniper hiding somewhere miles away, or dial down hearing so as not to be hindered by loud noises when one needs to focus on something else, for example.)

A Sentinel can learn to use those kinds of dials on their own, but it is very taxing and hard, and often leads to very unpleasant outcomes. 

Now, going a bit deeper into the fanlore.

Sentinels and Guides are usually genetically engineered for each other. The Guides scent is pleasant for the Sentinel, their heartbeat grounding, and so on. On the Guide’s side of the spectrum, the Sentinel often offers a sense of protection or ‘shielding’, for the Guide’s more emphathetic nature (though not every story has Empath Guides, it is a popular trope in fandom).

Sentinels and Guides (if compatible) often ‘bond’. These bonds can be platonic, or romantic/sexual in nature, but they usually all share a ‘bonding bite’. Which is a deep bite mark at the nape of the Guide’s (and sometimes the Sentinel’s) neck. And often brings with it a kind of psychic connection between the pair. Though not every story with Sentinels and Guides utilizes such.. 

There are often also some more spiritual aspects to Sentinels and Guides and bonding, but those are completely dependant on if and how and what the author wants to work into their story. 

Needless to say, the possibilities are endless. 

While the Sentinel is often presented as more primal, territorial, and possessive, the same things can be and have been attributed to Guides in many fanfics. Again, this aspect is completely up to the author and how they want to write their story.

Okay, I hope I covered most of the bases. Again, if anyone wants to add stuff, please do so!

I wrote this mostly because there is a chance that [@alanaaw88](https://tmblr.co/mzjCMBa5Bxf2CBkjYWjUICQ) will write a wonderful Starker A/B/O fiction with Sentinels and Guides of which I’m already a huge fan of, without even having read anything yet. :-) :-) :-) 

Thank you a bunch Sweetheart, and I hope this will help people unfamiliar with the Sentinel Guide stuff appreciate your fic even more!


	17. Chapter 17

##  [Pokemon babysitting service](https://lurafita.tumblr.com/post/187795291114/pokemon-babysitting-service)

Some background for the universe in which this takes place. 

There are no pokeballs. Pokemon aren’t captured, but live either wildly or domesticated among humans. 

If Pokemon cause chaos/damage, special units are deployed to deal with the situation. Pokemon choose their humans, if they wish to live among them, not the other way around. 

Not every person has a Pokemon, and not every person wants one. Just as not every pokemon wishes to tie themselves to a human. Pokemon also get al ittle territorial over their chosen human and only share them with another pokemon, if the other pokemon can create a counter balance to the team, or bring something new to the table. _(In essence, if for example a grass type chose their human, it would not accept another grass type to join.)_

It is very rare to see a human with more than two pokemon. 

Yes, some pokemon choose villains as their companions. Yes, some pokemon are ‘evil’. 

Every hero _(and most villains) _have pokemon partners, because many pokemon feel drawn to a lifestyle that promises opportunity to fight.

Oh, another quick thing: Peter is an Omega here and the birth mother of his and Tony’s children. It is natural for children to refer to their Omega parent as mom/mother/mommy and so on, and their Alpha parent as dad/father/pops, and so on. Apart from that, their second genders will not really play a role.

“Maybe you should stay home, sweetheart. You _just _recovered from our last mission.”

Tony followed behind his husband, as Peter went from room to room in search of his left webshooter. 

“Babe, that was last week. My leg was healed the next day. And my ribs only took a few hours more than that.”

He entered the kitchen next, making a beeline for the refridgerator. It wouldn’t be the first time that he had placed whatever he had in hand in the fridge in exchange for a snack, and then forgotten about it. Tony loved to tease him about that particular habit.

“They probably don’t even need us. I bet by the time we make it to the park, Cap and the others already have everything under control.”

Tony continued to argue. Even though Peter was right, and his injuries from their last mission had healed in no time at all, the older man would have liked for his love to have a bit more down time, before the next crazy villain with their equally crazy pokemon rolled around. 

Also, it had not been fun to watch his husband get hit by an energy blast that knocked him unconcious, and then fall off the building to his likely death. Thank god Cap’s Braviary had been close enough to catch Spidey. 

Tony, as well as his Magnezone and Peter’s Arcanine, had gotten very spooked that day, and may have hovered and been a little protective for the rest of last week. Greninja and Alakazam, Peter and Tony’s respective other pokemon partners, had been concerened about the near miss as well, but far more composed than the others, who had been at the scene and witnessed it live. 

_(Every time Spiderman and Iron Man were both called out for a mission, two of their pokemon would accompany them, while the other two stayed with Ben and Morgan, the four year old Stark twins.)_

“Steve called for back-up because there are too many enemies for the team to handle on their own. _Where is that stupid webshooter?_ In fact, you and Alakazam should probably go ahead already. Greninja and I will follow as soon as I - AHA! There it is!”

Peter shouted triumphantly, as he fished the black bracelet out of the dishwasher. He clipped it on and activated the nano particles that crept along his body to form the Spiderman suit. Then he speed walked into the living room, his mask purposely not forming over his face yet. 

He plucked a happily giggling Ben from his seat on Magnezone _(the electric/steel type loved letting the kids ride on top)_, and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek.

“Daddy and Mommy are going to kick some bad guy butt. You be good for Magnezone and Arcanine, okay?” 

Ben nodded with all the enthusiasm of a four year old, wrapped his arms around Peter’s neck for a quick squeeze, and was set back onto his dad’s Magnezone. The spider enhanced hero gave Magnezone a loving pat as well, before walking over to where little Morgan was leaning against the big fire type, and swung her up for a kiss and hug.

“You too, princess. No tricking the pokemon to find the secret candy stash again, got it? Remember how sick you and Ben got after that?”

Morgan nodded regretfully. 

“My tummy hurt. Sweets are good. But too much is bad.” 

Peter booped her nose. 

“Exactly. It’s okay to make a mistake-”

Both Morgan and Ben _(who was currently in his father’s embrace)_ finished the sentence.

“-as long as you learn from it.”

Peter beamed at them proudly, as he quickly ruffled his hand through Arcanines fur.

“We have the smartest children ever.”

Tony had finished with Ben and Magnezone and come over to scoop up Morgan.

“Of course we do. The smartest, cutest and best little son and daughter, right?”

Ben and Morgan were quick to shout their agreement. Setting his daughter back down next to the big dog pokemon _(who he quickly scratched behind the ears)_, Tony directed another look at his husband. 

“Please be careful, honey. I can’t-”

Peter cut him off with a kiss. 

“I promise. You be careful, too. Now come on, if we don’t get over there already, the rest of the team will have all the fun to themselves.”

With these words the iconic Spiderman mask closed over his face and he ran to their exit window, where Grenjinja and Alakazam were already waiting for them. The frog pokemon leapt out of the window with her human partner, after sharing a quick nod with Arcanine. Tony’s suit was rapidly forming over him, as he stepped closer to Alakazam. 

“Well, can’t have those two get there before us. Ready?”

The psychic pokemon nodded and levitated off the ground. Tony turned around once more, before the metallic mask closed over his face. 

“You four take good care of each other, or ice cream is banned forever.”

Then he and Alakazam were off and the large window pane closed behind them. 

As soon as their parents were gone, little Morgan and Ben locked eyes.

“Race around the suite?”

“You are on!”

Ben was still seated on Magnezone and Morgan clambered up on Arcanine. The two pokemon lined up, precious cargo securely on their backs, and got into a starting position.

Ben looked up to the ceiling. 

“We needs a countdown, Fridy.”*

The A.I. sounded amused as she started counting down dutifully from 5. 

_______________________________________

* Not a typo. Ben and Morgan are four. They sometimes don’t get grammar or names perfectly right.

The End.

I know this is short (and possibly not at all what was expected from the story prompt), but I’m kinda proud of myself for finally writing something that’s actually drabble lengths. :-) I usually get lost in explanations and story side-lines and before I know what happened, that cute little oneshot I planned has been bitten by the mulit-chapter-zombie and turned into a monster I don’t have enough plot ideas for. 

So, just a cute, little, domestic snippet here with Pokemon. :-)

Hope you enjoyed it. 

Remember to take breaks when you need them, be fair and kind to yourself and others around you, and have a wonderful day. Also, make sure you drink enough water today.


	18. Chapter 18

## Rich!Tony/Artist!Peter, part 1

This was given to me as a prompt in my asks.

So this is a no powers au. Tony is in his thirties, while Peter is in his twenties. Tony is still his billionaire self and head of Stark Industries, and Peter is an artist.

This wasn’t supposed to have more than one parts, but, as always, I got lost in descriptions and stuff, and I want to try to not post too long texts on tumblr. 

Sadly, nothing really happens here. I mean it, this is the boring part. I will try to get the next part out real soon. 

* * *

**The Art of Science and the Science of Art**

The thing is, it’s not enough to just be rich and famous. There is a certain song and dance that forces itself into your life and before you know it, you move your legs and swing your hips to it’s rhythm.

You don’t serve your business partner a glass of a ’_good_’ wine.

You serve them a glass of an ’_expensive_’ wine.

The richer and more important the person opposite you, the more expensive the bottle of wine, even if that person can’t really tell what it is specifically, that makes this one bottle more valuable than the cheap one at the liquore store.

Your suit is _bespoke_, there isn’t even a question about that. And it better be from a prestigious tailor.

You can wear comfortable clothes, _if _they are from the likes of Dolce and Gabbana, or Hermes.

Your cologne? Killian will do in a pinch, but it is better to have a little flacon of Tom Ford or Creed in your bathroom cabinet.

If the watch on your wrist costs anything less than 30,000 dollars, you might as well leave it at home.

Tony has been born into this world of luxury and thrived in it. He knows how to hum this song and dance this dance. And over the years, he has become rich and famous and successful enough to allow himself some leeway.   
Despite the various scandals of his youth, and the eccentricities of his more mature years, Anthony Edward Stark is _still _a true pioneer in his field, admired and envied by his peers and competitors, as well as the most sought after bachelor for years now.

If anyone specially invited to a high society event arrives thirty minutes late and in less than stellar clothes, they will become the laughing stock of the circle.   
If Tony Stark is three hours late and dressed in an untucked shirt and jeans, he is congratulated for his confidence and boldness.

If anyone else is caught having one affair after the other, their social standing will plummet.  
If Tony Stark is in the news with another man or woman on his arm every other week, his companies stock value is either unaffected, or will rise even more because of it.

It is the rich and famous that get to see the first performance of a high grossing musical, or opera.   
It is the rich and famous who are invited to theaters for a first viewing of a new play.

The audience for a fashion show of a high profile designer is mostly comprised of those that can afford the price tags.  
  
If you aren’t invited to a red carpet event? Well, then you simply aren’t worth the invitation.  
If you are invited but then fail to show? You just committed social suicide.   
If you are Tony Stark, however, those rules are out of the window. Because Tony Stark has to cater to no one.

So unlike pretty much anyone else, Tony could get away with not visiting the grand opening of the very first art exhibit of a new, but already incredibly popular, young artist. And if it weren’t for his very persistent personal assistant and good friend, Pepper Potts, he would have.

“Would you stop scowling already? I’m making you attend an exciting art show, not a firing squad. Jesus. Has it ever occurred to you that you might just enjoy yourself?”

The question earned two raised eyebrows and a scoff.

“Okay, first, there is _nothing _exciting about art. Period. It’s just a bunch of lines and paint on a canvas, or your run of the mill sculpture, depicting someone long dead, and usually nude. And don’t get me wrong, because I am without a doubt a great admirer of the naked human body, but that doesn’t mean I feel in any way drawn to or aroused by a block of cold clay. No matter how much detail is put into making the nipples look like they just puckered up, or how smooth the curves happen to be. And second, if you were _actually _taking me to a firing squad, that at least would be _exciting_. Guns I know. Guns I understand. Art is just… there.”

Pepper gave him a very unimpressed look, from where she was sitting opposite of him in one of the company’s spacious town cars.

“Please keep comments like that to yourself when we get there. Consider it an early birthday gift to me.”

“…Wasn’t your birthday last week? I’m pretty sure I sent you a cake.”

“My birthday is in two months. But yes, you did send me a cake. A strawberry cake.”

“Which you love.”

“Which I’m allergic to.”

“Oh…Well, at least I remembered that strawberries held significance to you. I feel like I should be getting points for that.”

A moment of awkward silence spread between them, in which the redhead treated her boss with the most cynical stare in existence, before Tony threw his hands up in the air.

“Fine, fine. I promise to walk around a boring room and look at _boring _paintings on boring walls and talk to _boring people _and keep all of my very true, but possibly degrading comments about the _un_importance of art to myself. Happy?”

“Delirious.”

She even smiled as she said it. Then she slipped her hand in her ridiculously small designer purse_ (honestly, why even bother with these things if you can’t fit anything practical in them? Like your phone. Or a screwdriver.)_, and pulled out a folded flyer.

“Here, that’s the theme of tonight’s exhibition. While the artist is pretty new to the scene, he has already made some noise in the community. Many think he is going to be the Van Gogh of this century.”

Tony accepted the flyer, but rolled his eyes.

“Van Gogh… isn’t that the one who cut off his ear? That kind of comparison doesn’t exactly ignite a whole lot of trust in me, concerning the next sure-to-be-a-waste-of-my-time hour of my life. I’m not exactly squeamish, but I’m really not into gore.”

He unfolded the piece of paper and read the caption with an almost sneer.

**‘The Art of Science and the Science of Art’**

Great. So the artist was one of those pretentious_ 'art is everything and everything is art’ _snobs. He was not looking forward to meeting… _what was the guys name, anyway?_ He scanned the paper quickly and found the name at the bottom, underneath a short introduction text to the kind of display that awaits the guests.

_Peter Parker._

___________________________________________________________

**_See? I told you this was the boring part. Well, hope you liked it anyway. As always, anyone who comments will automatically be put on the tagging list. If you don’t want to be tagged, but still with to comment, just write _‘no tag’_, at the end.   
_**

_ **Now, remember to have fun and enjoy what you love, and ignore any nay-sayers. Life can be short, don’t bother yourself with toxic people. ** _


	19. Chapter 19

Okay. Gotta be honest, this part isn’t that much more interesting than the first part was. But I did some actual research for this one and most of the artworks described in the text were inspired (or unashamedly stolen) from this site: [https://theartofeducation.edu/2017/10/26/11-fascinating-artists-inspired-science/](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Ftheartofeducation.edu%2F2017%2F10%2F26%2F11-fascinating-artists-inspired-science%2F&t=ZTk2ZDZjMThjOWQ0MWQ3YmRhNjk2ODZiMGUyMWExNWJkODM1N2RiZixmVW44VmhIMg%3D%3D&b=t%3AzPN3DfrIGNkGHYTa8SpQdw&p=https%3A%2F%2Flurafita.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F188001960429%2Frichtonyartistpeter-part-2&m=1)

So, let’s get this done!

## The Art of Science and the Science of Art

While self-satisfaction might not be very virtuous, Pepper couldn’t help the proud smirk that spread over her face, as she watched Tony all but fawn over the different artworks.

“Are you seeing this, Pep? This is a glass model of a magnified virus cell. They installed tiny light sources in specific places and angles to show how and where the cell interacts with the human body. And then there is a whole other set of lights and mirrors that indicates which parts are targeted and gradually destroyed by an antiviral drug. Actually, the way the mirrors are positioned here… yep. If you go around the pedestal and look at it from the different angles, it’s like a little movie. First you see the lights indicating the parasitic effect of the virus on the body, then the way the drugs counteract the effects, and once you reach full circle; Ah, see here? Now the lights and the mirrors and the shadows create the effect that the virus evaporated. Damn, that’s clever.”

Tony walked around the pedestal once more, trying to make out the positions and calculate the angles of all the lights and mirrors used.

Pepper’s previous gleeful smirk softened, as she watched her boss move on to the next exhibit, a gorgeous piece created with metals and specially coated glass. The reflected images and light created ‘Sun Drawings’, that moved and changed in response to sunlight and the passage of time.

Having been Tony Stark’s personal assistant for almost 8 years now, Pepper had learned much about the inner machinations of the man.   
And at his very center, Tony Stark was an engineer. A mechanic. He could talk theoretical physics with the best of them, but he preferred practical results. Tony’s work had a purpose, a direct impact.

Which was one of the reasons why he wasn’t normally swayed by art.

“Okay, this here? Classic movie effects. Chemical reactions used to visualize the images of a nuclear explosion, but it all happens under a microscope.”

While the billionaire could certainly appreciate beautiful art, something that was nothing more than 'nice to look at’ held no value to him. It was the same reason why he had tons of one night stands, and hardly any actual relationships in his life.   
He was at first attracted to a person’s physical beauty, which usually led to sex. But when the sexual need had been sated, mere physical attraction wasn’t enough to keep him interested in the person he had bedded the night before.

“Now this, this is art. Applied physics at its finest. Do you see how the magnets interact with and against each others polarity? This is a perfect demonstration of the symbolism behind the theory of gravitational forces.”

It was why Pepper had jumped on the chance to get her hands on the tickets to Peter Parker’s first ever art exhibition. He had been steadily making a name for himself over the last two years, and the redhead had seen some of his early works while she was on vacation in Europe. The young man had been set up in a corner of a street market in Marseilles, and with the help of various visual and practical effects, had explained the complex mechanics behind aerodynamic principles, to his wide eyed and utterly fascinated audience.

“A model of Nikola Tesla’s early design for a solar collector made by modern computer code. See this section here? That’s programming code for data extraction. In this context, it translates to Tesla’s attempt to convert the energy of solar rays into electrical power. It serves as a parallel between combining old and new resources. See? This is the kind of art one can actually talk about. Not a painting of a stupid fruit bowl.”

Whereas Tony used his genius and understanding of different areas of science to create and improve, Parker used his to teach and inspire. Parker’s art was something that Tony could not only relate to, but also admire, because it had purpose beyond it’s beauty.

The hour that Tony had initially given himself to suffer through the showcase had long since passed, as the billionaire found himself unable to curb any of his enthusiasm, as he grew ever more fascinated with every new piece of art. Other people milling about the rooms 'oohed’ and 'aahed’ as they inspected the different works of the artist, sipping on their glasses of complementary champagne. But Tony doubted they could truly grasp the idea; the genius behind it all.   
  


He was going to buy it all.   
The whole exhibit.   
_Everything_.   
He wanted those pieces in his company, in his home, in his workshop.   
He wanted to have the computer coded Tesla piece in his office, as a symbol of Stark Industries work on renewable energy.  
He wanted to gift the glass model of the virus cell to Bruce, to celebrate the biochemist’s latest break through in the field.

He wanted both the magnetic force field work and the microscopic chemical reactions in his workshop, as a source of constant inspiration. His fingers itched with the want to create, the need to pour his skills into his work.

He wanted_… He wanted to meet the artist._

When they had made their way almost full circle around the exhibit, they stopped at what appeared to be the last of the show cases. This one was different from the rest. For one, it was made out of Play Dough, though that was a fact Tony only realized by reading the description. How the hell this Parker guy had managed to form a completely genuine looking circuit board out of such an inferior material as children’s clay, he could only guess.

_He wanted to talk to the artist. _

Another thing that struck Tony was that this circuit board looked somehow familiar.

He leaned in closer.

“This one section here looks like a rather awkward welding job. The connections between the wires seem a bit clumped. I would put it down to the use of Play Dough, but the other details on the board are so clean… You know, this looks almost like-”

“-the circuit board you built when you were five years old.”

Both surprised by the new voice, Pepper and Tony quickly turned around. Just a step behind them stood a young man, dressed in a casual but nice enough suit, with deep brown eyes, fluffy looking chestnut hair and a shy smile. Pepper recognized the man she had seen in France right away, and held out her hand to him.

“Mr. Parker. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Virginia Potts. But please, feel free to call me Pepper. Everyone does.”

The artist took her hand with a pleasant smile.

“In this case, I insist on Peter. And the pleasure is mine, Pepper.”

Tony could hardly wait for the handshake to end, to insert himself into the introduction.

“So you are the surprisingly gorgeous face behind all these beauties. I’m-”

“Tony Stark. I know. I’m a big fan of your work, Mr. Stark.” Parker smiled brightly _(and blushing heavily)_ at him and eagerly reached for his hand. Then he shyly nodded to the pedestal display. “Your earliest work included.”

_He wanted…_

“Just Tony will do. One question, though. Why Play Dough? I may not have been very skilled with the welding equipment back then, but I do remember using the actual parts needed.”

Peter turned to his work, a helpless sort of smile on his lips, as he explained.

“When I was in my last year of highschool, and it was time to make a decision regarding college, I felt helplessly defeated. Was I supposed to attend one that focused on all the things that fascinated me about science, or one that focused on all the things I loved about art?  
I didn’t know if I would ever be able to meet the expectations others had placed upon me, and the ones I had placed upon myself. I became wary and anxious about every choice I made. Constantly questioning myself if it was worth it to try to combine the things I loved, or if I wouldn’t be able to hold on to both at the same time.   
Science versus art. Wanting to pursue such opposite things seemed ridiculous.   
But then my teacher gave us the task of writing a paper about a person that had greatly influenced our society and progress.   
I chose to write about you. And during my research, I found an old newspaper article, front page, about the young Stark prodigy, who was already showing the whole world how smart he was.  
The ordinary 5 year old makes crayon drawings and forms simple shapes out of Plasticine. A few can already read some of their children’s books, but many are still more focused on the pictures in them. But the 5 year old you broke out of the limitations perceived for kids, and defied expectations.   
And I thought to myself _‘Hey, if Tony Stark can build a circuit board at such a young age, then maybe I can find a way that doesn’t mean I have to give up on one of the things I love.’ _  
So, I guess I used the clay to symbolize what was expected, and your final design to show how you rose above.”

That shy little smile again. _He wanted…_

“In fact, you have done nothing but risen, Mr.- Tony. You have been a great inspiration for me, over the years. Quite possibly even a bit of a muse, if you will.”

Tony was a bit stumped, honestly. He had never been lost for words before. Thankfully he caught himself quickly. 

** _He wanted…_ **

“So, philanthropist, billionaire, genius, muse.” _(Had he just replaced his usual playboy title with ‘muse’?)_ “I like that.” _(He did.) _

** _Peter._ **

“As your muse, I get dibs, right?”

A confused little head tilt. 

_Cute_.

“Dibs?”

_On you._

“On the art pieces.” Tony elaborated with a sweeping gesture of his arm. “They are up for sale, right?

“Oh, yes. It’s uhm… we will hold an auction in a bit, after I have officially introduced myself to everyone here and said a few words.” Peter looked distinctly uncomfortable with that bit. 

Tony was just opening his mouth to say something else, when suddenly Pepper inserted herself back into the conversation. (He had admittedly forgotten that she was there.)

“Peter, I think the woman over there is trying to get your attention.”

They turned to see a middle aged woman in an elegant dress, subtly gesturing to him. Peter grinned a bit ruefully as he turned back to his two companions. 

“That’s my aunt, and also kind of my manager. I guess it’s time for my big entrance.”

He offered his hand once more first to Pepper, then to Tony.

“Pepper, Tony, again, it was a pleasure meeting you. Since it’s an auction, I can’t exactly grant you dibs, as much as I would like to.” He grinned at Tony. “But about 75% of all our revenues tonight will be donated to The Future Hope Foundation, which is a research center focused on developing cures for different diseases, speacially in children. I will be talking a bit more about that one in my speech, provided my severely repressed stage fright doesn’t hit me in a few minutes. So just know that whatever you decide bidding on, it will be worth it.” 

Tony wanted to keep holding on to that hand. A hand that was just as calloused as his own, but still somehow softer and more delicate. 

“I’m sure it will be.”

_You will be worth it._

Just as Peter turned to leave, he cast one last look at the Play Dough model.

“Take a look at the note beside the general description before things start going, would you?”

Then he and his aunt vanished out of the room, to prepare for Peter’s introduction.

Curious now, Tony and Pepper turned back around to the pedestal and found what Peter had been talking about. 

_‘Of all my works, this one is my favourite, not only because of what it represents to me, personally, but also because of the person who inspired it. _  
Unlike many of the other pieces, that are named after that which they represent, for this one, no other title than   


##  _Indomitable_

_could have ever come to mind.   
This is the only piece in the show case that will not be part of the auction. As this one already belongs to Anthony Edward Stark.’_

“Pep.”

“Yes, Tony.”

“If I win every single auction bid, which I will, I would be entitled to a date with the artist, right?”

“You are probably still going to have to ask him the old fashioned way.”

_“Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you all for coming tonight. Without further ado, it’s my sincere pleasure to introduce you to the man whose art work has brought you all here.”_

Tony smiled. “I can do that.”

_“I proudly present to you, Peter Parker!”_

_________________________________________________________

The End.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm taking some liberties with the way the characters talk here. Usually, when you have an environment with Kingdoms and knights and the like, you expect the story to have a certain... etiquette? Or, well, a certain kind of speech. Now, writing in a foreign language is already a challenge at times, but adding a kind of formal speech that is only seen in history books and period pieces, is simply too difficult for me to even attempt. So, since I'm not writing a historic period story, but rather a fantasy one with magic and the like, I think it's okay for me to have to characters speak in a more modern way (with words like 'fuck' and 'cool' and such), even though the plot doesn't play in a modern environment.

There might be some grammar mistakes and typos in this, because I’m uploading this without reading it five additional times (as is my usual M.O.). But I’m a bit pressed for time right now, and if I don’t upload this now, it will probably take me a few days to do it. I hope it’s not too bad, but please point out any mistakes I have made, so that I will have an easier time to correct them later on.

Spideyshield; King!Steve/Healer!Peter

FANTASY AU

The grand palace doors sprung open with an echoing bang, as first knight and commander of the Kingdom's army, Sir James Barnes, dragged his heavily wounded and bleeding friend and King, his majesty Steve Rogers, into the entrance hall.

Two of the guards rushed forward to assist, but he paid them no mind.

“PETER!” He cast his gaze to one of the servants who was watching the scene with wide, shocked eyes. “You! Alarm the royal healer! Get Peter to the west wing immediately!”

The servant ran off to do as the knight had ordered, while the other guards helped Sir James to carry their King to the castle's healing chambers. The blond King, almost unconscious by this point (in no small part due to the head wound he had suffered), tried directing his head to look at James.

“Nooo... dn't tell Pete... he g'nna be cross wit me...”

James adjusted his hold on the slightly bigger man, which elicited a groan from the King.

“You can bet your fucking ass he is gonna be cross with you! I'M fucking cross with you! Of all the stupid, crazy shit you could have possibly pulled out of your royal ass, you go and do this!”

The guards and servants surrounding them weren't even shocked to hear Sir James speak to their King like this. The commander of the knights was one of the few who could afford such a disrespectful tone with their ruler.

The King tried to respond to his friend, but his speech was slurred so much, that the words were completely unintelligible. Thankfully they had reached the healing chambers at this point, and carefully lifted the man onto one of the beds. Just in time, it seemed, as running footsteps could be heard, preceding the royal healer who burst into the room.

The panicked light brown eyes landed on the first knight immediately.

“James! Where is-” then the younger man spotted their wounded King on the bed. “Steve!”

He rushed forward, the white robes of his profession fluttering, dainty looking hands already emitting the warm glow of healing magic.

Since the King had finally succumbed to to unconsciousness, Peter directed his question to James.

“What happened?”

Seeing the brunette's healing touch at work was always a bit of a marvel to the knight, so it took a second for him to shake off his awe and answer.

“One of my men had overheard what he believed was a gathering of slave traders in one of the empire's bars. And you know how Steve is about slavery. He insisted on investigating things himself. Only took me along because I threatened to kick his Kingly ass if he didn't.”

The guards that had helped Sir James carry the King, took up a post outside the room, while two servants carried different supplies for the healer's use, as well as new clothes for the King.

“We found their lair, but as we were about to leave to come back with armed troops, one of the slavers pulled one of the children forward. They were about to...” He averted his gaze, the act too heinous for him to voice. By the look on Peter's face, he got it anyway. James cleared his throat. “I told Steve to go and bring reinforcements back with him, but stubborn fool that he is, he charged. Idiot took a blow to the head while warning me about an attack from my blind side.”

The knight shook his head ruefully as he watched the still form of his friend on the bed with fondness and guilt. Before he could spiral into self loathing, Peter's voice brought him out of his thoughts.

“You know he wouldn't want you to blame yourself for his injury. His decisions and actions are his own, as King, and as a man. Beating yourself up over it would belittle his sense of responsibility.”

James couldn't help but smile.

“How many times has he said those words to you, for you to be able to repeat them almost verbatim?”

The younger man grinned a little as well, and the magical shine around his hands diminished slowly.

“I have lost count. It is hard to argue with him.”

“Don't I know it.”

Confident that his magic had sealed the head wound, Peter let his hands hover over the rest of the King's masculine body, trying to see if there were any more injuries that needed his attention. When he found nothing of greater concern, he nodded to Steve's handmaid _(an older gentleman who had waited patiently in a corner of the room)_, to start cleaning and changing their King. Then he turned to James.

“What about you? Here, sit down on this bed. Let me-”

The knight help up a hand.

“I'm fine, Pete. Just some bumps and scratches. Nothing worse than I get from the training session with the guards, or his royal dumbness over there. He good?”

Peter nodded.

“The injury looked more severe than it was, but head wounds always bleed a lot. He had a concussion, but my magic has taken care of that. He should sleep for a few hours, but then he will be good as new. What about the people you freed from the slavers?”

“I alerted one of the city guards we passed as I dragged Steve's ass back here, so they should be taken care of. The troops most likely took the people to the normal healers, and threw whoever had survived of the slavers to rot in the cells.”

And while compassion and kindness was as much a part of Peter's very core as his magical ability to heal, even he couldn't bring himself to feel sorry for the slavers. The brunette himself had been a slave, once, and witnessed first hand the cruelties of those that held people's life and freedom in their hands. He would forever be thankful for the fact that his former 'owners' hadn't done their research, when they decided to sell Peter to the newly crowned King of the Brooklyn lands. Steve had wasted no time with implementing a new law in his kingdom, one that outlawed slavery, by threat of execution. But Peter's captors hadn't known that, and they had paid for their ignorance with their lives.

King Rogers, Steve, had taken Peter and the other slaves in his group in, had made them free citizens of his kingdom, and made sure they had a home and a means to support themselves. The younger man, back then still in his last teenage years, had been so grateful, that he had revealed his healing magic to the King. The healing touch was rare, as unlike other magic, it couldn't be learned, no matter how skilled the wizard or witch who attempted it.

Steve had offered him the position of royal healer _(offered. Not ordered, not demanded, not __**forced**__)_, and over the years, Peter's deep felt adoration for the man had grown into love.

“Maybe I should take a look still.” His voice was unsure as his eyes flickered to the bed where Steve, now cleaned of any blood and newly dressed, was resting. He felt conflicted. There might be people in the regular healers chamber that were hurt. Especially the children. Yet he didn't want to leave his King's side.

James seemingly knew what was going through the slighter man's head, as he laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“I need to go down there and get the report from the guards anyway. If I see someone in need of your help, I will send for you.”

Peter brought his hand up to give the broader one on his shoulder a squeeze.

“Thank you, Bucky.” Only a handful of people were allowed to call Sir James by that nickname. Peter was proud to be one of them.

-

Steve woke to the familiar sight of the royal healing chambers _(he wasn't the kind of King who could just sit on his throne and let others fight his battles, so he was very used to getting hurt)_, and the _(just as familiar)_ sight of Peter having fallen asleep on a chair by his bedside. He sighed. Steve hated worrying the younger man like this, to the point where Peter fell asleep in what had to be a pretty uncomfortable position.

He quietly got out of bed, and tested his limbs. Just as usual, Peter's magic had taken care of all his aches and pains. He felt good as new. He kept his steps light and soft as he went around the bed to kneel before the sleeping healer, then carefully snaked his arms under Peter's knees and behind his shoulders and lifted him up.

Peter felt so delicate in his bigger, stronger arms. So much more lithe, when compared to the wide chest and shoulders of the blond King. It made Steve want to keep him there, cradled in the protection his muscular arms offered, shielded from everything that might harm him.

He thought about lowering Peter into the medical bed, so as not to risk waking him up _(the younger man was always exhausted when he had used his powers on someone. He had said it was normal, that healing someone always took a lot of energy, as he was technically working against nature's course.)_

But it felt wrong to not have the younger man close right now. Maybe it was because of the slavers they had found and fought. (Slavers. In his Kingdom. He hated the very thought of it.)

When one of the scumbags had dragged the small boy up front, and opened his trousers, he had felt so reminded of the day Peter had been brought into the Kingdom, presented to him like some plaything. Peter had been a slave, once. Had lived the life that the people he and Bucky had managed to free today had been threatened with. The memory of that fact nearly broke his heart.

So he adjusted his hold on his healer into a more secure grip, and still careful not to wake the younger man, made his way out of the room. The guards posted beside the door stood to attention as their King passed them, happy to see both their ruler and royal healer well. Steve passed a few more of his servants, guards, and even Bucky, on his way to his chambers, with his precious cargo held in his arms.

All of them had smiled and curtseyed at him, glad to see their King on his feet again, but aware to not voice their joy, as to not wake the sleeping healer. Bucky, of course, had given his friend a truly shit eating grin, while looking at Peter and wiggling his eyebrows. Naturally, Bucky knew all about Steve's feelings for their magical healer, and took great pleasure in needling Steve to make a move already.

And Steve had been thinking about doing just that more and more. His people already loved Peter, and would celebrate their union.

When he got to his room (the door having been opened for him by Phil, his handmaid, he stepped up to his big, lavishly decorated and soft bed, and oh so carefully lowered Peter down. He gently rearranged the younger man's limbs to get him under the covers, and then laid himself down beside him.

Night had already fallen, and it was dark out. While Steve didn't feel particularly tired after his healing sleep, he still didn't feel comfortable with leaving Peter's side, and relished in the chance of laying next to him.

He softly stroked two of his fingers along Peter's forehead, tucking a stray strand of hair behind the younger's ear. Peter was beautiful. His skin light and soft, slim but perfectly curved lips, little dimples that could be seen even in sleep. But he was also so much more than just a pretty face. Peter was warm, and giving, and kind, and funny. Loyal and trusting and just too lovely for this world. How could Steve not have fallen for him?

Then Peter moved, and for a moment, Steve thought his heart was about to stop, as the brunette scooted closer, tucking his smaller body right into the King's embrace. Still deeply asleep, Peter's subconscious had likely been attracted to the source of warmth from another human body. Not that Steve minded.

He wound his arms around the healers body, pressing him a little more into his own, and thought he felt a soft sigh against his collar bone.

Then and there, while slowly being lulled to sleep by feeling the other's heartbeat against his own chest, Steve decided that he would start courting Peter officially the very next day. But right now, he would let himself bask in the scent and warmth and feeling of having his love in his arms.

The End.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked:  
peter runs a bakery and Tony is a well known dangerous mob boss who is taking an interest on peter

## Mob boss Tony x Baker Peter

Prompted by anon ask: click me

**Because we all love mob boss Tony AU’s and everyone needs to write one at least once.**

-Insert title here-

The first time Tony had stepped foot into ‘Ben & May’s little Bakery’, it had been 5:30 in the morning, and he had just executed a traitor.

Tony liked to take little strolls after especially gruesome bouts of violence _(which Adrian’s death had undoubtedly been. The maggot had dared to steal from him, and Tony had felt the need to make Toomes an example, for anyone who might entertain the thought of taking something that belonged to Tony Stark.)_

The warehouse, in which Toomes had died a slow and painful death, had been in Queens, and so had Tony, when only a few blocks away from the grizzly scene he had left his people to clean up, it had started to rain.

Cursing up a storm, the notorious leader of the Stark family, the biggest and most dangerous crime organization in the United States (and possibly beyond), had ducked into the nearest open store.

He was assaulted by the warm, sweet and wholesome smell of freshly baked goods and recently ground coffee beans, as soon as the door closed behind him. A bell chimed, signaling his entrance, and a distinctly male, but softly pitched voice called out from the back

“I’ll be right with you! Just one moment, please!”

Tony took the time to look around a bit.

The place was on the smallish side, but very quaint and comfortable looking. Some sitting booths and little tables and chairs all around, leading up to the traditional counter, that showcased a mouthwatering assortment of pastries.

The interior was kept in soft, pastel colors, with cleverly placed lights on the walls and ceiling that brightened the place up, without making it too grating on the eyes.

As he ventured closer to the counter (that in typical bar fashion, had some high chairs in front), his gaze fell on the marvel that was the coffee machine. Stainless steel, clearly multi-purpose for the preparation of different hot beverages, built-in grinder for fresh beans, and a high pressure nozzle for specific drinks.

God, judging from the machine alone, this bakery just had to have good coffee beans. And while Tony didn’t usually have much of a sweet tooth, he couldn’t deny that the brownies in the display had him nearly wetting his lips.

“I’m so sorry for the wait! I needed to get the rolls out of the oven before they burnt. So, what can I do for-”

Now Tony actually did wet his lips. A slight, but lean body, a bit on the short side. Slim hips, narrow shoulders, and yet despite what appeared to be a rather fragile stature at first glance, there were some clear signs of athleticism. Chestnut brown, fluffy looking hair, wide and innocent seeming eyes. Pale skin that only served to accentuate the blush currently spread over it.

He looked young, maybe college aged? Tony didn’t think he was looking at a teenager _(though that would hardly be an obstacle for him)_, but the man had a slightly boyish appearance.

The young man that had come out from the back in a flurry of motion and heavily flushed face _(probably due to having been around the high temperatures of the bakery’s ovens in the back)_, stopped short, mouth hanging open, when he saw the head of the Stark family waiting at the counter.

The reaction wasn’t uncommon. Tony Stark being the boss of possibly the greatest mafia family was pretty much an open secret, mostly due to the fact that he was the prime suspect in every major police investigation.

But since no one had ever been able to produce any proof to convict him of the various and many crimes he had been accused of _(some of which he actually had committed)_, well…

It was a bit like Schrödinger’s Cat. Just as the cat could be thought of as both alive and dead, Tony Stark was both guilty and innocent. At least until the day that definitive proof of his crimes was presented. _(Not that it ever would be. Tony was far too good at his profession to make such mistakes. And besides that, he had some very high ranking officials in his pocket, should things ever turn dire.)_

Didn’t change the fact that due to the many investigations that had been made upon his person, most of the public were more than a little wary of him. Sometimes being feared was fun. Other times, like when someone was possibly so shell shocked by his very presence, that they might mess up his order, it was annoying.

“A coffee, dark roast, as strong as you can make it. And one of those brownies. No cream on anything.”

For a moment, the younger man didn’t move a muscle, but just as Tony thought he would have to repeat himself, the brunette shook himself out of his stupor and quickly started on the order. Tony was a bit taken aback as he watched the younger man operate the machine and plate a big, moist looking piece of the brownies with practiced ease.

The surprise and slight fear from only seconds ago seemed to have vanished from the brunette, which was unusual to say the least. People didn’t just stop fearing Tony Stark for no apparent reason.

When the man, Peter – if the name on his apron was to be believed, set down both the fantastic smelling coffee and brownie in front of him, Tony couldn’t help but say

“Now, don’t get me wrong, sweetheart, because I certainly don’t want you to panic, but most people I meet react much less… let’s say casual, to my presence. May I take it that you aren’t afraid of me?”

He honestly didn’t know what he wanted the answer to be. Dealing with panicky and stuttering people was annoying and a waste of his time and patience. But thinking that he might be losing his edge was unacceptable.

Peter shrugged lightly, a half smile, half grimace on his lips. _(And what pretty little lips they were.)_

“Haven’t made up my mind about you, I guess. On the one hand, the probability that you are every bit the dangerous man people say you are is very high, and I’m not exactly a fan of violence. Or guns. Or crime in general, really. But on the other hand, I believe in ‘innocent until proven guilty’ – and so far, you haven’t been proven guilty.   
“Then there is the fact that ever since you and your… 'business partners’ have come to New York, gang violence has actually gone _down_.”   
Peter leaned sideways against the bar opposite from where Tony had taken a seat on one of the bar stools, crossing his arms over his chest, a contemplative look on his_ (pretty)_ face.   
“I’ve seen this in wild life documentaries. When bigger and badder predators take over a new territory, various of the smaller and weaker predators either flee, or get killed by the new arrivals.  
”There has been a distinctive lack of drug dealing close to my campus, lately, and walking my aunt home most nights doesn’t even require us to go the long route, since there are hardly any street gangs out and about anymore we need to stay clear off.”   
Then Peter frowned a little.   
“Which, if it really _is _due to your presence in this city, that I don’t have to fear so much about my aunt’s safety anymore, I might actually have to thank you for that. Of course, that would only be the case if you really were the leader of, what everyone says is pretty much, the mafia.”   
Then he shrugged again.   
“So, yeah. Undecided.”

What a delightfully simple and yet complex way of thinking. 

It was true that Tony had had his men taking care of all the little street gangs, when he first decided to branch out his organization from Italy to New York. He didn’t care about the individual criminals or dealers or murderers in this city, but there was simply no sense in allowing smaller groups the chance to grow into what might one day become a serious threat. 

And as an additional benefit, the very act of removing these other ‘predators’ - as Peter had said, actually scored him some points with the general public. Well, the ones smart enough to connect the dots, at least. And Peter, delightfully pretty Peter, seemed to belong into that category.

Tony took a sip from his coffee cup_ (and oh, those were **definitely **good beans)_, and then grinned at the younger man. 

“So, _hypothetically speaking_, if I were the reason for the absence of all those pesky little gangs around here, and consequently your and your aunt’s relative safety, how would you go about _thanking _me?”

He took a bite of his brownie, _(which was just as supple, soft and delicious as he imagined Peter would be, when he took him to his bed to devour him)_, as he kept his eyes trained on the younger an across from him. Who seemed to be seriously contemplating the answer to Tony’s question. 

And again, this threw the mob boss a bit. Peter looked like every bit of the shy, virginal college student, that would blush and stammer horribly, when being asked something as suggestive as this. Tony had put a very deliberatly seductive tone into his voice, after all.   
Which meant that either, Peter was more experienced and nonchalant about sexual acts than Tony had pegged him for _(which could be fun in it’s own way)_, or, _(and that thought was exciting enough that some of his blood was already starting downward)_ Peter was so inexpirienced and oblivious about these things, that the meaning behind Tony’s words had flown right over his head.

“Well, the obvious answer to that would be to let you eat and drink for free, here. But you are very clearly not hurting for money, so I don’t think saving a few dollars whenever you visit, is something you would find particularly rewarding. So, while we are still speaking _hypothetically_, how would you want me to thank you?”

_Oh. _

Oh, what a precious, precious little thing. How was it even possible for the cute brunette to be this smart and observant, and yet so naive and oblivious? 

How curious, how intriguing, how fucking attractive Peter was to him.

All those sinfully delicious thoughts running through his head right then. All the things he would do to the college student _(and part time baker)_. All the things he would make him feel.   
He would take him to his mansion, and have him in his bed for their first time. In his shower, the morning after. Draped over his couch, later that very same day. Tony would spread the nubile looking thing over every surface in the many rooms of his home. He would have Peter in his car, in his office, over the fucking counter his was sitting at right now. 

His little baker could make all the delicious looking cakes and pastries his heart desired, and Tony eat them off of his naked body, maybe even dribbling some chocolate sauce over him. 

Tony had never had much of a sweet tooth, but the images flashing through his mind had him almost salviating and craving it all. 

But.

“I don’t know. The coffee here is pretty good, I might come back for a cup quite frequently.”

Haste makes waste.

“And I might want to try some more of your baked goods.”

He would have to pace himself.

A last fork full of brownie was washed down with the rest of his coffee, as Tony stood from his chair and reached into his inner jacket pocket.

“Are you always here this early, sweetheart?”

Again the younger man seemed oblivious about the endearment, but this time it might have something to do with the two 100 dollar notes that Tony slid across the counter.

“I… I uhm,.. yeah, I. Yes, I open the place up at 5 o’clock every day, and then my aunt comes in when I have to get to my classes… Sir, you really don’t have to pay for … this is too much.”

Tony just smirked at him, as he turned casually towards the exit. 

“It’s a tip. I’ll be seeing you, Peter.”

And when he would finally claim his prize, it would be the most delicious morsel of them all.

______________________________________________________________

I’m thinking of turning this into a mini-series. Maybe. Possibly. I don’t know yet. But who knows, maybe I will finally get a decent bit of smut written in. 

Oh well. 

Hope you liked it, thanks to anon for the original prompt!


	22. Chapter 22

** Domestic Spideypool + toddler Ellie **

_*Breakfast time*_

Little two year old Ellie, sitting at the breakfast table with her dads, splashing her hand into her cereal bowl and fishing the fruit loops out with thumb and forefinger.

Peter, seeing this, hits Wade over the head.

**Wade**: “Hey! What was that for?!”

**Peter, pointing across the table at the toddler, who has milk running down her chin, while stuffing more cereal into her mouth:** “This is _your _manners written all over her!”

**Wade**: “What? That’s how you are supposed to eat fruit loops!”

**Peter hits him again. Then points at Ellie**: “Ellie, sweetie, please pick up your spoon and eat your cereal. Your father may be a lost cause, but I will at least raise my daughter with some table manners.”

Wade pokes his tongue out at Peter. Peter hits him again. Ellie grumpily takes her spoon into her left hand, and then promptly sticks her right hand back into her bowl.

Peter watches, gobsmacked, as his daughter continues shoveling soggy cereal into her mouth, while tightly holding the spoon in her other hand. 

**Wade laughs uproarously:** “This is _your _sass written all over her!”


	23. Chapter 23

This chapter is a little different. It will likely seem a little confusing and kind of all over the place. I assure you, this is not because I wrote it while being drunk. :-) 

The chapter is supposed be reflect on Peter mental and emotional state after rejecting Tony, and right now, Peter isn’t in a good place. There is a lot of self-loathing, as well as self-destructive behavior. 

As always, this wasn’t beta read, I’m not a nativ English speaker, and there might be mistakes or typos in this. Please point any you may find out to me, so I can correct them.

**SIM!Tony/Peter**

Part 3

24 muggings, 18 instances of battery, 11 cases of domestic violence, 7 attempted rapes, 5 house fires, 3 attempted kidnappings.

It had been a busy 6 days for Spiderman.

6 days since Peter had fled from the man he loved. The man who returned those feelings. The man who wanted to spend his life with him.

And Peter had run.

** _Like a coward._ **

6 days of almost non-stop heroism. 6 days of being Spiderman. 6 days of being someone who caught the bad guys, who protected the defenseless, who saved people!

_It was such a fucking farce._

6 days of trying desperately to not be Peter Parker. Because Peter Parker was a fucking mess. Because Peter Parker couldn’t deal with his fucking feelings and his fucking paranoia and his fucking life. Because Peter Parker was so scared that he was gonna lose someone else he loved, that he kept running away from them.

Just as he had done with Tony.

Aunt May had been easier.

He had moved into student housing together with Harry (before his then best friend had become a mutated, homicidal maniac), when he had started college. Slowly reducing their time together during his time as a student. First cutting down on the weekends he would visit her, then encouraging to go for that job she wanted _(which included better working conditions and pay, but was based in California.)_

Helping her move, promising to call often _(which he did)_ and visit as much as he could _(which he didn’t)_.

He missed her every day, but at least she was safe. Safe from being collateral damage in Peter Parker’s fucked up life.

Like Gwen, and MJ, and Harry, and Eddie.

Like Dr. Conners and Dr. Octaviuos and Captain Stacey.

Like uncle Ben.

And Peter should have fucking learned from all of this. He should have known to keep away from people. Keep his distance. Keep them _safe_.

But no.

No.

Because Peter was a selfish little prick and he just had to make friends, right?

Turning away from the people in his civilian life, had led him to forge deeper connections with the people in his hero life.

** _Stupid, stupid, stupid!_ **

Spiderman and the Avengers had worked together a lot over the years. As had Spiderman and the Defenders.

And Peter just had to let himself grow attached, hadn’t he?

Just had to insert himself into the two groups more an more. Talk them into team outings and movie nights and shared patrols.

Take off his mask and entrust them with his secret identity.

_Endanger them._

And then take things even further and fall in love!

** _Selfish fucking moron!_ **

But Tony was… he was just… everything.

Funny and smart and handsome and brave and sarcastic and kind.

Narcissistic and confident and charming and sexy.

But also shy, unsure and insecure.

Tony had his vices, and his flaws. Just like everyone else did. But Peter had fallen for the man anyway. He had fallen fast, hard, and completely in love with Anthony Edward Stark, Iron Man.

And for some crazy, ludicrous, abnormal reason, Tony returned those feelings.

Tony Stark, the man who could have anyone, wanted Peter Parker.

_Selfish, cowardly, broken Peter Parker._

And how had Peter reacted to that?

By pretty much throwing Tony’s love on the floor and trampling all over it on his way out the door.

_Running away._

** _Coward!_ **

6 days since he had last spoken to the genius. 6 days since he had even seen the man. 6 days of hiding behind his mask and swinging around in his suit and obsessively looking for anyone who might need his help.

As if it could balance out all the lives he had destroyed. As if it could erase the pain he had caused Tony.

6 days of running away from life as Peter Parker.

He had barely slept and hardly eaten anything. _(He only took care to keep himself well hydrated. Though most of what he drank was some form of liquid caffeine, to keep himself awake)_

Hadn’t bothered to take care of the various injuries he had acquired.

The other heroes he came across were getting worried.

First Matt after Peter had been out as Spiderman for a full 18 hours, and just yesterday Steve. They had taken him aside, told him to go home. Rest up and take a break.

They shouldn’t bother.

_He deserved this._

The exhaustion and the hunger and the pain.

He deserved it all for being a fucking, useless mess who always ended up hurting the people he loved.

His knuckles were stinging and bloody as he drove his fist into the brick wall once more. His healing factor stretched thin after almost a week without proper rest and nourishment.

** _Good. This is your punishment. You deserve this._ **

He had no time for self-pity_ (he didn’t deserve any, anyway)_

It had been all over the news. A sudden power failure at the raft. Security systems crashing. Suspected cyber attack.

Two of the prisoners had escaped. Conners and Octavious. The Lizard and Doc Ock.

And as if that wasn’t enough, Peter had overheard Steve on the phone with the director of Shield _(after the good Captain had unsuccessfully tried to convince Spidey to take a break)._

Venom was gone from the containment unit.

Three of his worst enemies were on the loose.

He had doubled his efforts since he had heard of it. No quick pit stops in his apartment. No short rests on the rooftops. Peter hadn’t slept at all in the last 64 hours.

He still hadn’t found them. No one had found them.

Eddie Brock was under 24 hour observation to make sure the symbiote couldn’t attach itself to it’s preferred host. _(Another life that Peter had destroyed. Due to his bond with Venom, Eddie had been reduced to little more than the likes of a junkie. In a constant state of withdrawal, driven mad by his need for reunion with the alien. He would probably have to live out the rest of his life in the mental institution he currently resided in)_

_ **All your fault!** _

The Avengers and the Defenders likewise had been spotted all over New York, trying to find and recapture the escaped villains before they could cause any damage. They constantly tried to flag Spidey down, get him somewhere safe, or at least make him stay close to them. Everyone know that Conners, Octavious and Venom would be out for Peter’s blood.

_(The only one Peter hadn’t seen since the news broke out was Iron Man, and he didn’t know what to think about that)_

_ **Maybe he doesn’t care about you anymore. Good! He shouldn’t! They are your villains and therefore your problem! The other heroes shouldn’t have to clean up your mess!** _

6 days since he had last been at work.

He was probably fired. He didn’t care. He could hardly think straight.

He was exhausted and starving and in pain.

** _You deserve this._ **

Three of his most dangerous enemies were somewhere in the city, planning who knows what, and every hero in New York had to waste their time and energy looking for them.

_ **All your fault! Always such a burden on everyone.** _

Tony probably hated him.

_ **He should! He deserves so much better than you!** _

He was on his last two cartridges of webfluid, having depleted his whole supply swinging through the city, looking for any trace of the Lizard and Ock. He should go back. Make more webfluid. He would need it in the fight against the two villains. _(Three, if Venom got a hold of Eddie.)_

Peter needed to be prepared for this. But he couldn’t stop now. He had to find and apprehend them, before they could hurt anyone! He couldn’t stop, couldn’t take a break.

** _You don’t deserve a break._ **

He had to keep going.

_He was so exhausted._

He still hadn’t found them.

_Everything hurt._

Where could they be?

_Tony hated him._

** _You deserve this._ **

** _You deserve this._ **

** _You deserve this!_ **

_Danger!!!_

His spidey-sense screamed and he veered left in his swing at the very last second, narrowly avoiding his former best friend on his deadly glider.

How could Peter have forgotten about Harry, The Green Goblin?


	24. Chapter 24

Starker, Half-brothers, Mafia

Okay, I’m not usually one for incest themes, but I couldn’t resist this plot. I’m also halfway convinced that I have read something similar to this in a Manga once, so I can’t really be credited with coming up with this plot on my own.

Anyway; for your consideration:

\- Howard and Maria Stark are married and have a son named Tony.

\- Howard is the head of the Italian mafia

\- When Tony is 10, Howard has a one-night-stand with one of Tony’s nannies who gets pregnant. (With Peter, of course)

\- While Howard wants nothing to do with his bastard child, and would rather pay the woman off to remove herself and her son from his premises, Maria doesn’t allow that.

\- While the mother is fine with accepting the money and vanishing, she herself shows little care for her son. So Maria insists Peter is made a member of the household. Howard agrees, because even though he cheated, he does love his wife (though he likes to pretend that Peter has no blood ties to him whatsoever, and orders that Peter is not to adress him as father, or Maria as mother. Maria tries to argue at first, but has to concede when Howard won’t give in on this matter.)

\- So Tony and Peter grow up together as half-brothers. Due to their parents leading the most powerful crime syndicate in the state, the boys are home schooled, a little isolated from other kids their age, and therefore are very close.

\- Tony adores his little brother (inspite of his father’s obvious disdain for the younger boy), is overprotective of Peter and childishly possessive of his brother. Peter on the other hand loves his older brother a lot and looks up to him with something like hero worship (because as much as any younger sibling will want to deny it later on, there is a time when our older siblings are the most badass and smart people we know.)

\- While Tony is being groomed to one day take over the family business, Peter is mostly left in the care of Maria. (And the different tutors. The boy is smart, and even though his scientific interests differ from Tony’s - who is more into mechanical engineering and applied physics -, Maria will not let his potential go to waste. Even if Howard complains that there is no value for the family business in biology and other things the boy is fascinated by)

\- Howard doesn’t hate Peter, exactly, but the boy is the living proof of his infidelity, something that Maria has never truly forgiven him for. And he can’t bring himself to really care for the boy.

\- Howard's open indifference toward Peter, is slightly reflected in the way the rest of the staff see and treat the boy. No one is openly hostile, of course, Maria Stark would not tolerate such, it’s just simply a lack of care or consideration.

\- Peter, while young, isn’t stupid, and notices these things. The whispers, the looks sent his way, the way everyone fawns over Tony, but hardly looks twice at Peter. And so on. However, Peter decides to grin and bear it. He has Maria and Tony. They love him and he loves them and thats enough.

\- Even when Tony is sent off to a fancy boarding school, the brothers stay in contact, and Tony comes back home as much as possible. (Getting to know other people his age didn’t change his love <strike>(obsession)</strike> for his little brother one bit)

\- So the years go by. When Peter is 15 (and Tony 25), Maria Stark is killed in a car accident. Tony, whose training to become the next head of the family includes going on “business” trips to other countries with a bunch of bodyguards and such, comes back for the funeral and he and Peter help each other through their grief.

\- But Tony is sent away on business and educational trips more and more often, leaving Peter in a big house where (without Maria), no one really cares for him. Peter is hardly allowed outside, or to go to a school like Tony did, and without Maria to browbeat her husband into compliance, the private tutoring stops. The only bright spots Peter has left to look forward to is when his brother comes home between his trips.

\- Tony doesn’t know that things are so glum for his brother, since Howard has made it very clear to Peter that while he can tolerate the two spending time together, Tony is not to be bothered with Peter’s petty problems.

\- Peter spends a lot of time teaching himself from the various books in the library, and the ones that Tony sends him as a gift.

\- However, with the passing of his wife, and the frequent absence of his oldest son, Howard indulges in the bottle more and more often. Caught in a spiral of mourning for his wife, regretting his own mistakes, and the alcohol, he starts taking his frustrations out on Peter.

\- Peter can bear it at first, but Howard grows more and more violent, and Tony’s trips grow longer and longer. Peter doesn’t dare say anything to Tony. Growing up the way he did, with only his brother and Maria showing him love, Peter has only the barest feeling of self-worth, and doesn’t believe he should ‘burden’ Tony with his problems.

\- By the time Peter’s 18th birthday rolls around (Tony can’t make it back in time to celebrate with his little brother, a trade partner in Hong Kong is making things complicated.), Howard goes too far, and Peter can finally bear the abuse no longer. He packs a bag and sneaks away from the guards and out of the house.

\- Running away had always been an option that Peter tried to ignore, but still prepared for. With his self taught skills, he fakes an ID and background for himself as Peter Parker (though he was always sure that he would never make use of it. He can’t leave Tony. He loves his brother. He would never leave him. This is just a precaution. In case of emergency only. But he won’t ever use it. He just prepare it. Just in case…)

\- Not having any connections in the outside world, and wanting to be out of reach of Howard's clutches (and possible revenge for running away), Peter makes his way to the States (he spent the last several years learning to speak English with an american accent) and enlists with the military. (He is pretty sure that the Stark family doesn’t have much power or connections with the foreign military, and no one would ever think to look for Peter there.)

\- He does feel horrible about just abandoning his brother like that, so he writes him one single letter, containing little more than the words “Sorry.” and “I love you.”, and hopes that Tony will forget him soon.

\- Tony is beyond furious when he finally learns everything that has been going on with Peter while he was away on family business. (He beats it out of one of the servants).

\- He deals with his father personally.

\- Tony didn’t spend the last years of his life simply just reaping the fruits of his fathers work before him. He strengthened the Starks position in the underworld, forged new alliances, and handpicked the next generation of bodyguards and ‘underlings’ (i don’t know a better word right now), that will work for and follow him loyally.

\- He does away with every single person that he feels had a hand in Peter fleeing from his home, before he almost drowns in self-loathing and guilt for not having noticed anything all this time.

\- He swears he will find his brother and get him back.

Fast forward about ten years, where ex-military turned police detective Peter Parker has just joined a new precinct in New York’s major crimes division, and Tony Stark has taken the first steps to bring America under the Starks rule the same as he did with Italy (and possibly other countries)

While Peter tried his best to leave his past behind him, Tony never stopped looking for his brother, and his love and need for him has only grown. When they finally, inevitably, cross paths again, Tony will do whatever it takes to make sure Peter gets back and remains by his side.

Thoughts?


	25. Chapter 25

##  [Law Enforcement Avengers & Good Criminal Peter](https://lurafita.tumblr.com/post/189473652754/law-enforcement-avengers-good-criminal-peter)

Okay, have we considered the following:

Non powers AU

Avengers are some kind of police force (detectives/FBI/special agents/belonging to a special unit/whatever), that covers mostly high scale theft.

Peter Parker, though no one knows his real name cause he is always costumed and goes by the alias Spiderman, is a high scale class thief.

However, Spidey is a kind of ‘Robin Hood’ criminial. His victims are Mob bosses and Crime Syndicates and corrupt higher ups and pretty much anyone who has some kind of dirt on them.

Because of that, not every victim of Spiderman reports whatever he has stolen to the authorities, fearing that an investigation might uncover their dirty business.(Though many still do, believing themselves smarter than the police)

Which is why after every heist, Spiderman makes a call to the agents in charge of apprehending him, the Avengers unit; usually to the units head: Tony Stark.

Usually with the words: “Guess what I just stole.”

And, okay, _technically_, Spiderman is breaking the law and they should really put more effort into finally finding and arresting him. But thanks to this guy’s thefts the Avengers have been able to put some major bad guys behind bars (some of which had been the real scum of the earth). Also, Spiderman is never armed (aside from this weird bio-degradable web stuff he uses), and has never harmed an innocent (a black eye or a dislocated shoulder to a hired gun is blissfully overlooked by the agents.)

So, they kinda like the guy, okay? Have even given him a nickname: Spidey.

Not even their unit chief: Nicolas Fury, is much on their asses about catching the Spider already.

One day, Tony’s little daughter Morgan gets kidnapped, and the whole team is frantically trying to find who grabbed her. Is it someone they are currently investigating, or one of their cases that is going before a judge soon. Is someone trying to use Tony’s daughter to blackmail him and the team, or is it old fashioned revenge?

The team isn’t making any progress, there are just too many suspects, not enough info to send them in the right direction, and Tony is about to have a fucking break down.

Then his phone rings and as he answers, anticipating to hear the voice of the kidnapper of his little girl, the familiar voice of Spiderman speaks instead.

“Guess what I just stole?”

Tony likes the guy, but he doesn’t have time for this right now, and he tells Spidey as much, and is about to hang up, when suddenly Morgan is on the other end of the phone call with a happy “Hi Daddy!”

Turns out Spidey’s latest target was the guy who had kidnapped Tony’s daughter, because the Avengers had arrested the guys brother a few years ago, and the brother had just recently been killed in prison.

When Spidey was scoping out the place for his heist, he found little Morgan locked up in some dark, dank room, and got her out.

And Tony is in tears, because thank fuck is baby girl is safe. Then Spidey is back on the line and tells him to meet them in some diner that’s not far away, and also where he found her, identifying the person behind the kidnapping.

Tony and the others race to the diner, where they find Morgan making her way through an impressive amount of pancakes topped with ice cream and a chocolate milkshake.

Tony beelines to her and scoops her up and is just “Oh thank god. Are you alright Morgan? Did they hurt you? It’s all gonny be okay now, Daddy’s got you.” and so on.

And the others get some hugs in too, and everyone is just relieved and happy and Morgan seems to be unharmed and thank god.

Then they notice the young man who is sitting across from where Morgan sat in the booth, an iced coffee before him, who is just looking at the scene with a little smile on his face.

He introduces himself as Peter Parker, a bystander who had been handed the child from some guy in a costume with the order to wait with the girl in the diner until her father and his friends come to pick her up.

And they know, okay? It’s not a good cover story, and Spidey isn’t even really trying right then, and they just fucking know that this is the thief they have been (kinda but not really) trying to catch.

And they don’t fucking care.

They thank him profusely for ‘staying with Morgan’ and keeping an eye on her (read: saving her from her kidnapper). and then most of the team gets back to the precinct to get ready to arrest the son of a bitch who kidnapped little Morgan, while Tony and Morgan stay a little longer in the diner with Peter, because: “But I haven’t finished my pancakes, Daddy.”

And Morgan tells Tony all about how Spiderman broke her out of the smelly room and took her piggy back and scaled that one wall that was “So high, Daddy! I thought we were gonna fall, but Spidey wrapped those sticky webs around me so I wouldn’t slip off, and then we was jumping and climbing like in those parkerkour videos that my friend Amy showed me and it was so cool Daddy.”

And Morgan keeps stealing little looks at Peter whenever she talks about Spiderman, so Tony can guess that the young man probably lifted his mask for her (probably so she wouldn’t be scared of him). But Morgan is nothing but not loyal, so if Peter asked her to keep him being Spiderman a secret between them, then that’s exactly what she will do. (Even though she is very bad at it.)

And… then I don’t really know. Things will happen, the team and Peter (Spidey) will get closer (Tony and Peter in particular) and maybe things even get to a point where Spidey is offered a consultant job with the team, in exchange for a prison sentence, or something like that. (It takes a thief to catch a thief, after all. And Spidey can provide a lot of insider info for the department.)

Or something else. I don’t know.


	26. Blanket Permission

It kinda baffles me, that sometimes, when one writer takes inspiration from another writer's story, and puts their own ideas and twists into it, this particular plot becomes a trope. And then other times, when one writer takes inspiration from another writer's story, and puts their own ideas and twists intoit, they get attacked for stealing the idea.

I genuinely don't get this._ (Well, no, actually I get it a little bit. Authors put a lot of work and love into their stories and it's only right to have that work be acknowledged.)_

Look, let me explain.

I write about things I like, right?

I center my stories around the characters I like the most and create situations that I find exciting or appealing or enjoyable. _(Or sometimes even sad or scary when I'm in a particular mood.)_

Point of the matter is: I write what I want to read.

Which, to me, translates that I **_want_ **others to get inspiration from my stories.

I _**want** _people to read my stuff and say:_ "I liked that. I'm gonna write something like that!",_ or: _"This was a nice conclusion, but this story could have played out very differently. I would like to explore an alternate event.",_ or:_ "There was this one thing in this story that I would like to put into a different context."_, or even: _"Well, the idea itself was nice enough, but I don't think it was very well executed here. I would like to try my hand on this."_

Because all of this, would afford me with a wide variety of stories to read that I would likely enjoy. _(Not even to mention the great honor and ginormous ego-boost I would feel knowing that something I wrote somehow inspired someone else.)_

So, with having explained my stand on this matter, please see this as blanket permission from me, to make use of **_anything _**written in my works of fanfiction you want.

Any prompt, plot bunny, vague idea, characteristics explored, circumstances written, or full on story of mine that has been published here;

\- if you want to write something with the same premise, but different developement

\- if you want to write something completely different, but want to use one aspect or characteristic featured in the stories

\- if you can find any inspiration from any of my works at all

PLEASE use _**whatever** _you need or want from them.

_(Also, sorry I made you think this was a new chapter.)_


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternate Universe/Dimension Travel/Alpha Avengers/Omega Peter/Pack Dynamics
> 
> #peter parker #steve rogers #tony stark #bruce banner #natasha romanoff #thor #clint barton #avengers #spider-man #abo verse #omega peter #alternate universes #dimension travel #slightly suicidal peter #traumatized peter #alternate dark avengers #pack dynamics #alpha avengers #starker #spideyshield #winterspider #widowspider #polyvengers #possibly more pairings #pack omega peter

I don’t know why, but I’m really in the mood for some Polyvengers, Alpha/Omega pack story with a way too involved and complicated plot.

Okay, so imagine the following: 

\- Peter Parker is Spiderman in a world where the Avengers are villains. (Only original Avengers, i.e. Tony, Steve, Natasha, Clint, Bruce, Thor) Spiderman is one of the only people who can and does stand up against them and fight them.

\- Up to consideration if other (future) Avengers, like Falcon and Winter Soldier, are in this dimension as well and helping Spidey, or if they don’t exist in this dimension.

\- But as you can guess, one against 6 is not a fair fight and the odds are always against Spidey. He manages to hold them off and protect the civilians most of the time, but it’s hard and Peter has accumulated more than enough battle scars to show for it. (I have this head canon that only wounds severe enough to almost kill him, are those that leave scars on Peter’s otherwise blemish free body thanks to his healing factor.)

\- One day, Peter devises a trap for the Avengers, with a bomb/biological agent/something, that’s guaranteed to wipe them out. 

\- But to make sure the Avengers don’t get out of the radius last second, Peter has to stay and activate the bomb manually. 

\- Instead of dying (which Peter accepted and was fine with) (maybe even a little too fine with, considering that he had lost pretty much everyone he cared about and fighting the Avengers for the last however many years has left him with his fair share of trauma), Peter gets catapulted into another universe. 

\- A universe in which people have second genders (to which his body adepts right away, which Peter isn’t happy with at all), in which the Avengers exist and are good guys, and, to add insult to injury, most of the Avengers are Alphas, (some betas who at least don’t smell in any way appealing to Peter. Small mercies.) bonded through what is called a ‘pack’, and completely convinced that Peter is their mate and the missing piece to their pack.

\- Now you have a Peter who is suddenly an Omega, in a dimension so incredibly different, and yet the same, as his own. His worst enemies keep trying to woo him, and the only thing that keeps him from trying to break their bones constantly, is the fact that his spidey-sense has never been as relaxed as when he is in their presence. 

\- Doesn’t mean Peter can just shut off years of accumulated trauma brought on by the alternate versions of these people, and the Avengers have a long way ahead of them to win their spider over. (they find themselves webbed to the walls or ceiling more often than not, whenever they accidentally moved a bit too fast with Peter.)

\- Up to consideration who is all part of the Avengers pack, and who all would end up being in a sexual/romantic relationship with Peter (I do think definitely Tony, Steve and Natasha. But if people want Clint to have his own family like in the movies, he could be a beta - for example. I would like Bucky to be part of Peter’s harem - hahaha - too, he at least wouldn’t have been a bad guy in his previous universe. Rest is really up to whoever ends up writing it. Sky is the limit.)

\- obviously, Peter cannot be some helpless, delicate little flower for this, even if he turns into an omega in the other dimension.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starker soulmates au / Mute!Peter
> 
> I need to stop with these new ideas and finally work on my ongoing stories!!!  
Not fleshed out! Very short! Can be seen as a prompt!!!

Okay, so in a world where not everyone has a soulmate, but those that do, have the first words that their soulmate ever says to them tattooed on their arm/wrist (depending on lengths), and the words glow and then change color once the soulmate speaks them.

Tony Stark’s arm is completely bare.

Both of them. He checked. Multiple times. For years.

It’s okay. Not everyone has a soulmate. Not everyone needs a soulmate. 

Not everyone deserves a soulmate.

It’s okay. Tony Stark doesn’t need a soulmate. He is rich, he is handsome, he is a celebrity, he is a genius.

He is desired and admired and envied.

Tony Stark has everything anyone could ever want for. 

Except for a soulmate. Which he doesn’t need.

But he wants one desperately.

But no. Nothing. 42 years and counting, and his arms remain bare.

It shouldn’t matter. He is still rich, still handsome, still a celebrity, still a genius. 

He already has so much more than most people. It would be selfish and spoiled to ask for even more. 

He isn’t some starry eyed kid, reading a fairy tale in which the destined for each other soulmates live happily ever after.

He doesn’t need a soulmate. 

But god damn it, he wants one.

________________________________________________________________

Peter is damaged. His aunt would scold him for thinking of himself in such terms, but he knows it’s true.

His first word hasn’t been ‘mom’, or ‘dad’, or any of those other famously first words of little kids. 

There has never been a first word. 

His vocal chords had developed wrong, got damaged during birth, then ended up being ‘beyond repair’. 

But that wasn’t the reason Peter thought of himself as damaged. He could live with the disability. _Had_ lived with the disability. Pretty well, actually, all things considered. He had thrived inspite of it. He was smart, had gone to a good school, had been accepted at an ivy league college, had great friends (two, but it was quality over quantity), and the most amazing aunt anyone could ask for.

No. If being mute had been the only problem, Peter would say he had quite the perfect life. (You know, disregarding losing his parents to a plane crash and his uncle in a store robbery gone wrong. And the bullying he endured through highschool)

No. 

The problem were the four words written across the inside of his wrist. 

_‘Whoa there. You okay?’_

He had a soulmate. 

He was someone’s soulmate.

And they didn’t know. 

His soulmate didn’t know they had a soulmate, because Peter would never speak a word to them. 

Soulmates were supposed to be special. Soulmates were supposed to complete each other. Soulmates were supposed to find each other, with the help of their marks. 

But Peter couldn’t speak. 

Would never be able to speak. 

And his soulmate, whoever they were, didn’t even know he existed.

Add to that, the words on Peter’s wrist were common ones. He didn’t like admitting it, but he was clumsy. Regularly caught up in his own head, easily distracted. So often had he bumped into another person. So often had that other person said these exact words to him (as well as the many people who were incredibly unhappy about being bumped into, and then not being offered a verbal apology. Theirs had not been the words on his wrist, and had often left Peter shoved roughly to the side or the ground. Bruises were part of his every day life.)

Peter’s eyes had flown to his wrist every time, anticipating, wondering if this was the one, if the words would glow, if the color would change. 

It never did. 

And with every fail, every time the words didn’t light up, every time it wasn’t his soulmate, Peter’s heart sank a little.

It was just as well, wasn’t it? What did he have to offer his soulmate. 

A constantly broke college student. With only one surviving family member. Clumsy, awkward, nerdy, shy.

And mute.

Soulmates were supposed to be special. 

But there was nothing special about Peter Parker.


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I completely forgot to add the little continuation to the previous chapter. It wasn't written by me, but by the fabulous obligatorynasty on tumblr. This link should guide you to the source: https://lurafita.tumblr.com/post/190305093844/starker-soulmates-au-mutepeter
> 
> Now, here, the hopeful ending for the soulmates with mute Peter fic.   
Again, all credit for this should go to obligatorynasty.

It was common for guest lecturers to come _enrich_ Peter’s class – lots of mediocre scientists and barely innovative businessmen that seemed uninterested in enthusing the swaths of tired college students. Yes, this major-required course was a snore but, at least, Peter didn’t have to participate. Being damaged – _no_, Aunt May would hate if he said that – _being mute_ sometimes had its perks, including ignoring the surprise guest speaker his professor was gushing about in this morning’s mass email. The same guest speaker that was fifteen minutes late.

Peter rolled his eyes and sighed, glancing over to MJ, who was seated beside him with an equally bored expression. ‘This class is the worst.’ He signed with exasperated hand gestures.

“Agreed,” MJ nodded, slumping against the desk and placing her chin into her palm. “If this dude doesn’t show in five more minutes, I’m out. I don’t want to hear about another Chad Rich-From-Birth’s parent funded startup.”

Peter grinned, signing a witty, ‘Or another half-hour pitch about a product that doesn’t even exist yet.’

“Preach,” MJ laughed. “Honestly, I’m down to ditch now. We can get an early lunch.”

‘Brunch?’ Peter signed with a smirk.

“Brunch.”

So they collected their things and sneaked out the backdoor – well, Peter sneaked, but MJ boldly walked out, saying that Peter shouldn’t feel guilty about missing a guest lecture that the speaker couldn’t even be on-time for.

‘But it’s still rude,” Peter sharply signed.

“What’s rude is not having an omelette next to some fresh fruit and a crispy sandwich,” MJ joked. “What’s rude is not having a mimosa in a fancy flute glass with-” She pointed to her wrist, where her soul words remained unchanged in hue. “-a side of soulmate.”

‘What’s actually rude is this bold assumption that we can afford anything but fast food.’ Peter grinned. ‘Do you want your first soulmate meeting to be in the middle of a McDonald’s?’

“Let me dream, Peter!” MJ exclaimed, laughing so hard that her face was tinting red. “Occupation doesn’t matter when we are talking about soul bonds, dude. I’ll take a burger slinger. A college student needs to eat.”

‘Well, have fun dreaming of burgers. I’m going to run to the bathroom.’

“Okay, I’ll wait here,” MJ giggled. “Maybe if you’re lucky, you’ll meet your soulmate at the urinals.”

Peter shook his head and, as he walked down the hall, he signed a quick, ‘Oh god, that would be way too awkward.’

The bathroom was towards the back entrance of the building, not a long walk but a boring one, and only Peter’s quick turn of the corner had the power to change that. He stumbled back from the force of colliding into some unsuspecting somebody and – _holy shit, that’s Tony Stark!_ He frantically thought as his mind went blank and his eyes went wide, staring at the well-dressed icon before him.

And those words – those common fucking words – were uttered to him faster than he had time to process, “Whoa there. You okay?”

Only, this time, it was different. Those words, breaching the threshold of Tony’s lips caused a tingle in Peter’s wrist. The feeling wasn’t painful but, somehow, it caused his heart to race; caused his stomach to feel airy; caused his palms to sweat, because _it was happening_. He lifted his hand and stared as the dark words on his wrist glowed and swirled with a captivating red hue. His eyes flickered between his now bold red soul words and the incredulous look on Tony Stark’s face.

“You can’t talk.”

Exactly. Peter couldn’t talk and the rush of shame was swift. Here he was, standing in the sight of genius and Peter was just some mute, damaged, broke college student. So he ducked his head, embarrassed by the thought of dragging down someone as amazing as Tony Stark. Then, without warning, warm hands were cupping his cheeks and guiding his gaze upward, beckoning him to look into the expression of pure gratitude hidden just beyond Tony’s eyes, like a man who wandered a desert for years and finally found an oasis.

“You are perfect.”  
  
  


-fin-  
  
(Now, this may be seen as a beautiful ending, or a hopeful beginning. Because I still would not mind at all if anyone wanted to write any additional parts for this.)  
And once again, many thanks to obligatorynasty for this wonderful addition.


End file.
